


The Vow

by Fangirlinit



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Class Differences, F/F, Infidelity, Lots of Angst, Loveless Marriage, Porn With Plot, Science Fiction, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, War, bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlinit/pseuds/Fangirlinit
Summary: In an alternate universe where Earth is technologically dependent on the galaxy’s elite races, Alex finds it difficult to lead a life of her own. That all changes when she’s introduced to a woman of means. Before she knows it, opportunity throws her into a world of starships and immortal captains and endless war and desire. For all the good it does, she doesn’t expect the woman it turns her into.
Relationships: Astra/Alex Danvers
Comments: 83
Kudos: 77





	1. The Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based on the novel "The Painted Veil." You don't have to read it or watch the movie adaptations in advance. If you have already, you won't be spoiled of any plot twists. I've only borrowed the general idea, plopped it in a futuristic setting, thrown these lovely characters into the mix, and hit the blend button (also known as the angst button). Enjoy!

Location: Earth  
Year: 2215 Standard  
United Planetary League Status: Active member since 2107  
Commerce Rating: Moderate  
Sustainability Rating: Poor  
Species Tolerance Level: 4/10  
Native Intelligence Level: 3/10

Alex kicked off her work loafers. They slapped the wall and joined a dejected pile of worn sneakers, Nikes, and dress heels. The automatic lights were not programmed to turn on. Electricity ran up a huge bill, so she never bothered. Nothing but the glow from street lamps lit the apartment. The off-white light bathed an armchair, loveseat, coffee table, and an entertainment center occupied by an ancient plasma screen.

The door closed with a _hiss_ - _snap_. Alex padded through the foyer. She passed a shadowy collection of mail on the floor, oblivious to a garish red envelope. Some people might notice a junk pile and take care not to trample over it, but after the day she had, running errands for residents, fellows, and attendings, she had no more fucks to give.

The walls of her efficiency apartment swallowed her sigh. It felt good to be home. She may live on a moronic rock of a planet and still live with her parents, but this was her space and her own to fuck up any way she pleased. Location meant little to someone who had been born into a homogeneous world society. As long as she had a place to call hers, Alex would have felt the same on any continent.

It took time for this flippant nostalgia to sink in. Alex hadn’t always lived in the city. Once, long ago, she woke to rhythmic swells and the cheeps of finches. No matter the time of day, the breeze always carried a briny scent, always beckoning her to its origins. The swiftly eroding coast still offered a variety of activities to the locals; surfing being the most popular. In those days, Alex had made it her business to ride the most violent waves. She would take risks whenever she could, especially where it concerned the vast blue sea. When she wasn’t endangering her life at the beach, she took to studying on her patio. Not only did her family have a backyard, it grew green and vibrant as if recently dosed by a Californian rain.

That beauty and vitality did not last. Her father, Jeremiah, lost his job and spent a year searching for work, albeit in vain. When money grew tight, the Danvers moved from seaside Midvale to the economy high-rise apartments of National City. And they were not the only family to relocate. Hundreds of families were packed in like sardines, one atop the other, in 40-story buildings similar to those developed in housing projects of the 1960s and 1970s in America. This resurgence of cost-effective housing was not restricted to the low-income individuals because the better part of Earth could be described as a melting pot of blue collar and barely-make-enough-dough-for-morning-coffee humans.

Some might envy Alex: she had living parents who loved her and put up with her daydreaming. A great many others sympathized. ‘Too close for comfort’ summed up Alex’s college years and post graduate life in close proximity to family. Granted, her parents rented out the unit across the hall, it hardly deterred her mother from making impromptu visits typically leading with, “Have you found a wife yet?”

It wasn’t easy, not due to embarrassment because her situation was common. The day in, day out pressure stemmed from an entirely different reason: her parents were a constant reminder of their lot in life. They lived for academia, Eliza teaching high school physics and Jeremiah a professor of sociology. It was understandable how they gravitated to one another: two people working thankless jobs and whom specialized in expendable fields. It sufficed to say that Earth ranked dead last when it came to supply and demand in the sciences and humanities. The greatest minds in the galaxy emerged from highly advanced planets such as Terminus, Oa, Rann, and Krypton. Earth provided little else besides water, bridgmanite (mined from the planet’s mantle, the second-innermost layer), and a simpleminded population.

Jeremiah and Eliza were examples of hard working, well-intentioned people who received nothing for their efforts but one insurmountable impediment after the other. Try as she might, the cycle had not broken with Alex. She earned her master’s degree in biology and worked two unrewarding jobs as a lab assistant and a teacher’s aide. That was the Danvers legacy: stunted ambitions and microscopic contributions.

In the featureless kitchenette, Alex plopped her dinner on the counter and rummaged inside. The organized sound of discord from outdoors joined the crinkling plastic bag to create a music accustomed to her ears. It was a sound she looked forward to. Why? Because it evoked promising notes of solitude, rich food, and diversion at a slim fare. What more could a worn out, employed adult wish for?

Her stomach complained audibly. Unlike a badly tuned violin in an orchestra, her protesting stomach didn’t throw the entire night into chaos. She collected her dinner, biting back a groan at the aroma, and traipsed across the apartment in her socks. She didn’t waste time changing out of her work clothes. Her appetite wouldn’t wait.

The city ambiance was her entertainment for the night. National City, restless with drunken revelers, sirens, car horns, and tire shrieks, had an amusing sort of quality at midnight. Very few cities slept as they had before the 22nd century. It went without saying that an overworked population needed a means to decompress, be their means creative or destructive. Everyone working a 50-hour week had to have their outlets for stress. Some led double lives as shoplifters or con artists to earn extra cash. Others shot off their unregistered firearms at 7 AM, played baseball in the streets, or took pleasure in virtually simulated one-night-stands or in the genuine articles sold on every street corner.

Alex wasn’t one to judge. People did what they had to do to keep sane on this fucked up planet. Though she could do without the Saturday morning gunshots and baseball-sized hole in her window.

Every city had its peculiar brand of bedlam just like every soul had its dirty secret. In Alex’s case, her culturally diverse borough in National City conveyed charm when you got used to the truant kids hurling empty beer bottles at one another. The few restaurants lining her street endured through rich, aromatic feats: the 87-year-old immigrant from Vietnam rumored to sleep with a .45, the two brothers who serve the spiciest street food one could find outside of Paraguay, the burger joint run by a Denver Broncos has-been whom no one recognizes, and the Communist-turned- _pelmeni_ -virtuoso who says he’s reformed but whose patrons discover inside their take-out bag a leaflet on the local, underground commune.

All of these places had two things in common: the food was cheap and the owners were tough as old boots. Any restauranteur had to have guts to make it anywhere these days. Crops were failing in heat stroke conditions, and with so many scientists leaving Earth to study alternative farming methods, the ability to supply food to the masses had been stretched thin. The storied backgrounds, the traditional food, the natural conversation, all of it knit together the community while adding their own fabric to the many-layered boroughs making up National City. Though the charm dwelt deep beneath outward appearances, the neighborhood offered reward to anyone who made the effort.

But charm wasn’t what drew Alex out on her porch that night. The whicker armchair squealed under her as she slouched back, propping her feet on the lacquered banister and tilting her head up to the sky. Even from the highest level of her apartment complex, viewing the night sky proved difficult. Though like most challenges in Alex’s life, she approached the task with blind regard to the deficiencies.

She squinted through smog thick enough to choke a rhinoceros. Her eyes strained and her imagination stretched forth to grab the smallest glint of a star. It would have seemed fruitless to anyone else. The expanse had more luck of finding her than she it, but Alex persisted. A breeze squeezed between impacted skyscrapers and whipped around corners. For a second, an infinitely small moment, the fog parted for a diamond’s wink against dusky black. But then the haze swept in, obscuring any sight of it however improbable.

The last time Alex’s eyes met starlight, she was fourteen and staring unblinking behind the eyepiece of a telescope. That’s what humans were forced to use back then. It took a telescope to view a frontier humans had taken for granted. Nowadays, if you wanted to catch a glimpse, you had to fly commercial. Smog obscured anything below cruising altitude, which meant Alex was shit out of luck.

Accustomed to disappointment, she spared a grimace and dropped her gaze into her lap. Maybe another night. Maybe another time. Maybe… maybe… maybe….

With the heat from the Styrofoam bowl warming her lap, she pried off the lid and dove into heaven. Broth flicked off the noodles as she sucked them noisily between her lips. She guided them into her ravenous mouth with the aid of chopsticks. God bless Miss Nguyen and her _pho-_ nomonal cooking. Where on Earth did she get those spices? The black market, probably.

That night Alex tried to be at peace with her place in the galaxy. There she was, armed with a hot bowl of supper, comfortable quarters at her back, and tolerable ruckus below. Alex, a free-thinking woman born of moderate privilege. Naturally, her thoughts turned to morose reality. She still asked questions of herself that others might deem frivolous, like why she continued to live with her parents. 

Context matters. Why? Many humans under the age of 35 could not afford to live by their own means. These days it was not so unfathomable that an unmarried person lived under their parents’ roof. Those that were lucky enough to be employed right out of college or be well-connected to off-world enterprises found themselves lightyears from Earth and ahead of their generation when it came to career and class standing.

For humans, climbing the galactic social ladder proved tantamount to attaining the pinnacle of Mount Everest. Without proper training. Without equipment. Without the benefit of the doubt. The reasons go way back, around the time Earth joined a federation of sovereign worlds (aka United Planetary League or UPL). How could Earth, birthplace of Hypatia, Newton, Katherine Johnson, and Hawkings, fuck up you might ask. The short answer starts and ends with arrogance. Earth failed to impress upon the stark reality that its people were not the greatest civilization in the Milky Way, nor the oldest. Frankly, the planet barely reached a grade of “moderate” in human success rate (factors range from economic growth to overall happiness [for more information, see United Planetary League’s Species Development Index]).

For the long story, one would have to read into Earth’s multi-faceted failures, one of which was in regard to their planet’s waning sustainability. Unlike other members of the UPL, Earth’s leadership poured money into ground investments such as feeding and housing an exploding population, weapons technology, and the tapping of already declining resources. Space, essentially, offered as much profit to them as a limitless garbage disposal system.

“Why did we abandon the stars?” asked one former Space X engineer.

“Because our founding fathers believed in fiscal responsibility,” answered one rising political figure and future U.S. congressman.

It was a strategy that would become its undoing. Politicians and their dependence on a divided world market economy bred years of ignorance. Some were actually deluded enough to believe that Earth would one day become a boon to the galaxy’s needy, suffering inhabitants as America had been to a World War II devastated Europe. Yet that vision would not come to fruition.

After the dismantling of NASA, inefficient support to private space programs, and the debilitating slashes in funding to academic institutions, nations turned out fewer and fewer dreamers than ever before. Just a decade after its incorporation into the United Planetary League, Earth became a drain sucking all ambition and creative thought into obscurity. More than a century later, those who remained on the planet were comprised of generations of poor, working class humans struggling to pull themselves out of the sink hole created by their forefathers.

Consequently, there was no future for the intelligentsia, even if they were undeterred by a stagnant world economy. The jobs were not on Earth, so those who wanted it bad enough were forced to leave home to seek better, brighter opportunities. Where else would they find such a fresh start but among the stars? For those that did not have the resources, enduring amidst a world society that devalued innovation became an immense test of will. Breaking free, however, figured to be an even greater challenge. One must either marry well or have been born into a family of privilege.

Neither were options for Alex. Even as she approached her 28th birthday, the idea of marriage soured her stomach. Alex had integrity. She had her independence. What could a wife give her that she hadn’t already earned through her own determination? Technically, she hadn’t earned all that much but that wasn’t the point. The point was, while marriage may be a one-way ticket off planet, it did not guarantee success. Success resulted from hard work, little sleep, and the sacrifice of one’s personal life. Which explained why Alex worked two shifts that day – one at the hospital and the other at the university.

Alex went inside to toss her empty soup container in the trash. From there, she gravitated to the refrigerator where she kept a stock of beer. The stuff proved palatable despite it being domestic. Earth might not be known for its exports, but it certainly had a reputation for bad beer.

What Alex wouldn’t give for a Havanian ale. The last time her lips touched its mellow froth she had to suffer through one of those UPL socials. Her ankles nearly died in heels, but it was worth the free booze.

She kicked shut the door to her fridge. The subsequent rattling of a few condiments and take out containers expiring on their shelves sounded like white noise to her ears. Her PDA was linked to the unit, so she would be alerted whenever supplies grew low.

As she made her way across the foyer, something crackled underfoot. She paused, squinting at the dark pile of mail on the floor. The chances that they were bills were pretty damn high. Though Alex always made her payments on time, rifling through reminders of her pitiful income was not her idea of spending what remained of her Wednesday night.

As she prepared to tread over the mess like ripe leftovers, a spot of red caught her eye. Tilting her head, she bent down to retrieve the piece of mail. The seal appeared broken. That prompted a brow raise. From inside she slipped out a thick piece of paper. Judging by the creamy quality, it couldn’t be an electric bill. Shadows played across its surface. Alex stared transfixed by the card as she blindly headed for the porch.

The perpetual light of street lamps revealed high quality card stock. The smooth, off-white foreground and embossed cursive caused her to frown. Just why would anyone spend money on her? Vaguely impressed and somewhat suspicious of the donor, Alex looked closer at the letters. The fine script glinted gold when caught by the light. Must have cost a pretty penny to print. Shrugging to no one, she threw caution to the wind and read.

_The United Planetary Legion’s Social Affairs Division cordially invites Alexandra Danvers to an evening gala. We will be celebrating the host species’ contributions in academia with a special emphasis on National City University’s outstanding work in exogenetics._

_Join us in toasting to an interstellar friendship that spans 200 million lightyears and includes over 40 worlds and many more years of partnership and mutual growth to come._

Alex flipped over the card to find a sticky note from Eliza. A surge of heat filled her cheeks. She and her mother needed to have a serious chat about invasion of privacy. The gall of that woman. Mouth crinkling at the futility of a one-sided argument, she read the message.

_Looks fun, doesn’t it?!_

The bold black letters conveyed a nudge forceful enough to persuade a jump off a cliff. They were followed by not one, not two, but three smiley faces.

Alex’s first instinct was to light the invitation and accompanying post-it on fire and watch it burn with feverish delight. The Fourth of July would come early this year. It would be the highlight of her week.

Just as her fingers found the matchbox in her drawer, she stopped. The pads of her fingers brushed the sand-papery striking surface while her mind turned of its own accord. She withdrew empty-handed from out of the drawer. Something changed her mind. She couldn’t tell what. The wheels churned like cogs in possession of their own deceitful designs. But did the feeling spawn from her mind? Or someplace else?

For the first time in her life, Alex’s hands were tied by intuition. Throwing her head back with a sigh, she shut her eyes and spoke to any higher power that had nothing better to do than eavesdrop on her miserable existence.

“Fuck my life.”


	2. The Party

As things stood, Alex took a modest amount of joy in her life on Earth. Modest in a sense that she walked through it as if it were someone else’s.

It was by no means a life of luxury. She owned two sofas, one of which had a broken leg and the other sporting a five-year-old coffee stain (expertly hidden behind a pillow). Her television barely got a signal through Earth’s cluttered orbit. Satellites vied for space with junk. It turned out that old fashioned gravity pulled all that accumulating garbage back into synchronous orbit. Thanks, U.S. government.

Recently, a nationally syndicated news site published an article that ranked National City as one of the top 30 dangerous places to live on Earth. Hardly news to Alex and the rest of the city. Just the other day, armed criminals stormed the hospital where she worked. Doctors and nurses were taken hostage at gunpoint. As the thieves swept through the halls, ampoules, sterilized needles, and drug patches fell in the wake of their drug spree.

Amid the confusion, Alex had snatched up one of those needles and stabbed a blaster-toting brute in the arm. That stunt earned her a nasty bruise on the cheek but it was worth stopping the beating taking place before her eyes. The 45-year-old woman visiting her sick son escaped with a few bruised ribs. Alex received a two-week suspension for violating hospital policy. Staff were not supposed to intervene in case of a hostage situation. Unfortunately, Alex couldn’t afford to make a statement of moral integrity, so she grudgingly accepted the suspension and returned to work after the two weeks had elapsed.

Alex could complain about her life. She could complain a whole damn lot, blaming everyone from her luckless parents to Joe Whatshisname across the galaxy. The system was rigged to serve the highest bidder. Very few on Earth had a fighting chance to make something of themselves. Alex could cry and scream all she wanted. Nothing would change her situation. She had resigned herself to her fate: a stagnant career, no opportunities for personal growth, a dwindling social life, overall unhappiness. And no power on Earth could better it.

But all that was about to change.

* * *

Classical music floated through the estate. Rooms were connected by hallways, outdoor stone walkways, and bridges over babbling streams, allowing access to the mingling party attendants. A National City University alum had loaned the estate for the evening gala.

Alex stood in the corner of a parlor largely decked in mahogany. Her ear was tuned to the mellow violins. She thought the music beautiful and a worthwhile diversion from boredom. A constant din of conversation boomed over the music, so it took a good deal of concentration to tune it out. In the event of failure, she had to suffer through any number of droning discussions pertaining to Gideon Way trade contracts, the crashing stim market in the Outer Rim, or the recent Bakuri Razorbacks upset over the Yon Vey Admirals. For a party celebrating the achievements of academics, no one really talked about academia.

It fit her sensibilities to flatten her back to the wall. Alex wouldn’t necessarily call herself shy. She liked conversation, just as long as the other person kept eye contact and offered a reasonable contribution.

It had only been an hour and Alex had received three lewd solicitations by men who were old enough to be her father. There _were_ a few promising contenders throughout the night. Of the two candidates, one was a leggy blonde and the other a shamelessly beautiful woman in wavy violet hair. The former, a human female, checked off all the boxes on Alex’s list but raised a red flag when her attention wandered to Alex’s ass and remaining there for about 2.75 minutes. Alex wasn’t that desperate. Pass.

The latter held her own admirably. A native of Colu, the green-skinned humanoid knew she was the hottest woman there, and that air of self-importance made her glow. The sight pleased Alex or, at the very least, pleased someplace below her sashed waist.

And so ensued a long, exciting conversation about the ethics of genetic manipulation. Coluans were renowned for their level eight intellect and their advances in technology. Their contributions ranged from organic cybernetics to artificial intelligence. This Coluan did not fail to impress. She seemed as interested in Alex’s research as Alex was.

Aside from the stimulating discussion, Alex felt a connection. The Coluan was attractive, smart, quick witted, and foreseeably kind. What could possibly go wrong? Alex was about to call it a night and suggested a drink at her place. The woman smiled a sexy smile. The stars seemed aligned that night until her soon-to-be date asked if her husband could join them. Alex wasn’t amused. Mission aborted.

Misfortune and romance usually went hand-in-hand in Alex’s experience but she determined not to dwell on it. Instead of sulking into her drink in the gallery, she sulked into her drink elsewhere. After ditching the human ogler and the Coluan, Alex stepped outside for a jaunt over the babbling brook, through the gardens, and into the cigar choked parlor. It proved critical to get that shock of cold air before resubmitting herself to this farce of a celebration. On her route through the parlor, she picked up a glass effervescing with champagne, downed it in three gulps, snagged a replacement, and booked it to a pocket of fresh air. The corner was cool and without the cloying scent of smoke. There, she would get through this party in one piece. Just keep the wolves at bay and the alcohol coming.

The minutes wore on. No one paid her any attention. Yet. The soothing violins soon climaxed to a full string orchestra. A sudden chime broadcasted through the room. Alex’s gaze shot to the clock on the fireplace mantle. It read 9:30. She sighed. It had been five minutes since she entered the parlor.

Why didn’t she just leave? Well, because attendance at these socials was mandatory, even for a professor's aide. If her boss didn’t verbally acknowledge her presence, overtime might be docked. Hence her lingering.

Alex constantly pulled on her evening dress. It had been a gift from her mother. The dark blue gown fit her simplistic style. It was even her favorite color, midnight blue embroidery on an indigo bodice. The finely stitched whorls reminded her of Midvale’s surf and how the waves coiled behind her surfboard.

The gown flared slightly at the waist, allowing movement without sacrificing her slim figure. The garment was made from a newly imported material called “Proflex,” and it was in high demand among fashion circles (according to Eliza). Although athletes and military outfits were typical buyers of such performance fabric, the general public took notice of the gleaming smooth mesh lacking any seams or visible stitching and began trading in their boring, low mobility robes for a bold statement. Essentially, the suit jackets and gowns looked like what Yves Saint Laurent would have designed if he was dropped in the 23rd century.

The high-tech weave made the material more flexible than most dresses Alex wore at these events. She could sit, stand, slouch, or ditch the party at a breakneck sprint without tearing so much as a stitch.

As lovely as the dress, Alex took heed of the gift’s ulterior motives. Her mother’s fingerprints were all over this bribe. Eliza prided herself on premeditation. If she wanted her daughter married off to a diamond tycoon from the Kemer system, she would plan it down to the dress Alex wore at their meet cute.

Alex sighed. Her gaze continued to roam the firelit parlor until she spotted her father. He was in a conversation with a fellow colleague. The discussion, or debate judging by their rigid postures, appeared to have successfully distracted him from his constant tugging on his dinner jacket. The sheer number of jackets Eliza had to darn due to her husband’s nervous ticks could not be counted on one hand.

The size of the room allowed enough space for isolated interactions. Jeremiah took advantage of the privacy to express his argument before one of his rivals overheard. Alex watched with a faint smile as his hands gesticulated in front of his exuberant “game face.”

As bored as she was, she decided not to intrude. Jeremiah was in his element and far be it from her to break up a friendly argument between intellects. She smiled and tipped back the last of her drink. At least she didn’t have to worry about her father. The only thing he pushed on her was an education. Not that a master’s degree had taken her places.

Alex coiled the long blue sash of her dress around her arm. Though the tail of silk served as an adornment, she saw fit to make it her accomplice. Her fingers pulled at the length before reaching the hem and returning for more length to stroke. Try as she had, she couldn’t rid herself of the nervous tick.

She looked around at the guests. There were as many men wearing robes as the women. Kryptonian culture in particular, although the remaining human elite eventually adopted the fashion. Consequently, it was a challenge to distinguish between human and alien. All in attendance were humanoid with a few oddly colored skin tones here and forehead ridges there. The fact that nearly everyone was decked in some alien fashion or another made it all the more difficult to identify species. As a student of biology, Alex had familiarized herself with the human penchant for taking what was not theirs and claiming it as their own. For all she knew, the tuxedoed male smoking a cigar to her left was a shapeshifting Martian and the turbaned female studying a painting hailed from Brooklyn.

Though the purpose of these parties was to cement relations between humans and nonhumans, from where Alex stood there was very little cross-species mingling going on. The humans were notorious sloths who bloviated their accomplishments despite the fact that much of their wealthy, educated masses jump out of system as fast as you could say “Geronimo.” And the nonhumans? They just assumed that anyone who wasn’t born on their planet had the IQ of a rat. Alex had yet to meet a single guest at these parties who lacked the arrogance gene.

The representatives from visiting sovereigns were no better. They took offense at the slightest joke made at their expense and limited their interactions with the natives. These gatherings continued only out of the necessity to uphold UPL policy. Guests accepted the invitation to keep up appearances. And for the free booze.

“I have been watching you.”

It came out of nowhere. Hadn’t she been positioned in a corner? Alex tempered her reaction with a shrug of her shoulders. She tried her best to identify the individual before turning around. The voice carried an edge vaguely suggesting challenge in single combat. If that were the case and this… stranger… had been born from a race devoted to the martial arts then Alex was shit out of luck.

Upon turning, Alex’s gaze met a slim woman wrapped in purple. Royal purple – what an ironic understatement. The long-sleeved dress covered her figure down to the floor where the hem pooled. Too important to show some ankle apparently. Alex ran her gaze up, studying the small waist, slender arms, and the fingers cradling a coupe of champagne. Whoever this woman was, she looked powerful yet too diminutive in size to claim victory in any battle. Perhaps she was a politician. That would explain the edgy tone of voice. She probably spent her days chewing heads off in order to pass legislation.

When her eyes met the stranger’s, she realized to some surprise that despite this woman’s comportment, they were of equal height. It irked Alex something fierce to discover that the face did not match the voice.

“You’ve been watching me?” Alex echoed. She finished her once over with a sardonic twist of her mouth. “That’s comforting.”

“Forgive me.” The woman’s eyes fluttered before dropping to her drink. Tiny bubbles popped on the cool chartreuse surface. She rubbed the glass rim with her thumb. “I am often not in the company of common folk.”

“Thanks.” Okay, so definitely not a politician (too repentant) or a princess (not pretentious enough). Who was this broad?

The glossy white strand of hair rustled as she raised her head and tilted it on an angle. “It sounds as if you are being sarcastic, but I am unsure.”

In the seconds that had elapsed since Alex’s solitude had been so rudely interrupted, she detected traces of awkwardness and tiresome formality. It was obvious, really, how horrible a conversationalist this woman was.

“Truth be told,” Alex’s gaze wandered the parlor, “I can’t scrounge the effort to be offended by a complete stranger.”

Instead of responding with any number of come-ons directed at her that night, the woman remained mute. In fact, judging by the knit brow and unblinking stare, she appeared downright thrown by Alex’s indifference.

Whether the mystery guest was hedging for a comeback or was a genuine dimwit, Alex wasn’t going to waste her time waiting for an answer. At the risk of coming across as rude, she succumbed to a grim roll of the eyes and pushed past. “Excuse me.”

Alex didn’t bother feigning an out. Anyone with an ounce of shame would have pulled a nonentity into discussion or answered a fake summons from the mustachioed gent in the hallway. What was the use in humoring the woman? She seemed like she could take a brush off.

The hall echoed to her footfalls. Each heel strike echoed in her ears. She wished she could just find her boss and be done with this night. Where the hell was her boss anyway?

Alex took a detour up the staircase. She had been to this estate before, so she knew her remaining options: the ballroom, the dining room, or the armory. She couldn’t stomach food and she’d rather cut off her arm than waltz.

Passing over the threshold, Alex searched about the various shaped heads and colored skin tones. She gave a dejected sigh and walked across the parquet floor, keeping to the outskirts.

Upon finding a secluded spot near a window, Alex ducked around the musket display and snagged up her dress sash. No one would find her here unless they could see through solid oak. Her fingers commenced more pulling, though not nearly anxious enough to tear the delicate material so she’d have an excuse to leave.

The sheer sleeves of her dress left her feeling cool in the stale armory. It hadn’t escaped Alex that the estate was stuffed to the gills with patriarchy. Here, it seemed to scream it: suits of armor standing at attention, glass encased broadswords, racks of spears, mounted shields, hanging flags embossed with the house crest. Everything exuded masculinity, duty bound honor, and absolutism.

It was not her mother’s bribe that caused her anxious tugs but what it (the dress) symbolized. At the present date of 2215, Earth had turned into some kind of Kafkaesque pastiche where everyone followed the life led before them in an endless cycle of birth, marriage, work, death. There was no substance in between worth mentioning and very few tools with which to disrupt the cycle. Like so many of Alex’s peers, she had no sense of what life was like on other worlds. There were books, of course, and entertainment programs, and simulations that allowed the player to experience all manner of place, person, or stimuli for a price. Like unfinished paintings, their true meaning was hidden from all but the architect.

But all of that existed as a means to entertain, to escape the monotony and return with a vague notion. Knowledge became a product to be consumed and recycled over and over again as the status quo never really changed. The books Alex had read and the films she had watched were as elusive as dreams. She had no idea how a woman her age lived on planet Mars or Rann or Terminus. She had no understanding of their hopes, triumphs, and attachments any more than she understood her own.

All she knew was what Earth had to offer her: customs too ancient and rooted in ignorance to allow a margin of error.

The muscles in Alex’s jaw twitched. She really needed to stop thinking about how damned she was. It grated. Thank god her mother decided to sit this one out. Were she here, she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to keep Alex’s expression in check.

_Smile more, Alexandra. No one likes a worry wort._

Movement caught her eye. Alex peered around the polished stock of a musket. From between two broad shouldered women, a man with a head of jet black hair squeezed past. His gaze looked searchingly. Just as Alex stepped forward to get her father's attention, she saw a figure following him – her stalker in purple.

Be it instinct or self-preservation, Alex saw fit to duck behind the display case. She waited a few seconds, eyes counting the taps of her toe on a parquet square. Over the din of voices and glassware chinking, she picked up the sound of footsteps. They were headed her way, no pauses, no detours. In fact, they were making a _beeline_ in her direction. Son of a…

A throat cleared. She bit back a groan and sidestepped into view. Jeremiah and the woman stood side by side (seemingly tolerant of each other’s company) and waited for an explanation.

In the direction of the woman, Alex forged a smile. For her father, she offered as generous a greeting as her love could express. Nothing quite earned his forgiveness like a rosy-cheeked smile.

Jeremiah spared his daughter a kiss on the cheek. When in public, he resigned to an affectionate half grin, something she’d never seen her father do with anyone else.

“I hope you haven’t been enjoying yourself _too_ much,” he said. He shot a glance at a nearby crowd of professors buzzing amongst themselves before returning an exasperated sigh. He smiled again, eyes sympathetic. These small gestures never failed to warm her.

“Oh, no,” she insisted with a chuckle. “I’m keeping my enthusiasm in check.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The moment Alex felt the corner of her smile grow limp, she reinforced it with another chuckle. She could feel the woman’s eyes on her. Piercing eyes flit back and forth, trying to piece out the nature between father and daughter. Alex fought the urge to challenge the scrutiny. She wouldn’t fall for a ruse. Whatever her relationship with her father, it wasn’t the business of this stranger.

Jeremiah’s voice cut through her thoughts like a blaster bolt. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

The statement nearly bowled Alex over. Her gut roiled and burned as if blasted by a straight shot. So this woman wasn’t some hanger-on after all. A delayed retort of “What?” slipped from her lips.

Astra stared back, unruffled, and nodded. “We have met.”

Alex met her gaze. Nothing in her voice revealed irritation. The nod looked respectful, and she seemed to be acquainted with her father.

A flutter of curiosity came unbidden from Alex. It was not every day that Jeremiah brought round people of tolerance. His work had a tendency to discomfort the non-scientific as well as the scientific community and make wealthy benefactors squeamish. Alex, a chip off the old block, had a similar inclination to rub people the wrong way (though not as involuntarily as Jeremiah).

The woman now stretching forth her hand in amity must either have short-term memory loss or be extending a deliberate challenge. Or she chose to turn a blind eye around discourtesy. Perhaps Alex had misjudged her.

“Alex Danvers,” she said, gripping the proffered hand, “but you probably knew that.”

The woman acknowledged with a blink before bowing her head. “Astra, second born to In-Ze of Krypton.”

“Now’s not the time for modesty, General.” Jeremiah folded his hands behind his back, grinning as if he had cracked the human genome. “Astra is a decorated veteran who fought in the 22nd century Talcyon-CorSec conflict. Brigadier General of the Kryptonian Guard, if I remember correctly.”

Alex failed to conceal her surprise. In fact, the shock became so affective she hardly noticed the soaring height of her eyebrows.

Her gaze dropped of its own accord and betrayed her yet again by glazing up the seamless cut of Astra’s dress. Upon closer inspection, she didn’t seem so fragile. Without a glass of champagne to occupy her hands, she locked them behind her back. The stance squared her shoulders, kept her chin level, and trained her eyes on the target. A soldier in every sense of the word.

The dress threw Alex off. An honest mistake surely. Now, she couldn’t imagine this Astra in any other profession. She appeared self-assured, absolutely composed, fearless; at home in a room full of weapons as it were. If some evil guise were to possess the suits of armor and set them on a rampage, this general would be the last to lose her nerve. She’d liquidate the enemy before the first scream split the air.

An uncomfortable knot formed in Alex’s stomach. She usually prided herself on deductive reasoning. Scientists made superb observers and her readings in body language should have clued her in. She had been played. There was no other explanation. It had to be a tactic of the general’s, some kind of bait and switch to expose Alex’s shortsightedness and subsequent embarrassment. Heat crept up Alex’s neck and filled her face with anger.

Finally, Alex cobbled together some semblance of composure. “Where’s your uniform?” Her brow rose in challenge. When Astra didn’t take the bait, Alex pushed harder by gesturing around the room. “I’ve seen of few of your friends here in their pressed jackets and jingling in medals. What makes you so special?”

The lack of tact in his daughter’s behavior brought a flush to Jeremiah’s face. He brought his fist up to thinned lips and cleared his throat.

_Behave._

If Astra caught on to their exchange, she didn’t show it. “I am of the mind that believes actions should speak for one’s accomplishments. I do not need baubles to show off my deeds.”

“Spoken like a soldier.”

Astra’s eyes tightened, possibly to discern sarcasm behind the remark rather than to show outright annoyance. “That I am.”

Alex had been right about one thing: the woman was not a conversationalist. Nor a poet. What more could one expect from a mind that tended towards violence?

Jeremiah intervened again. “General In-Ze is on leave.” He nodded, clearly impressed with this glowing being of worth and discourse. “She’s devoted her free time to representing the Kryptonians. And offering some insight of her own, too.”

Alex looked between them. She couldn’t help the question prickling the back of her neck. “How do you two know each other?”

“We just met,” Astra said. “Your father and I were discussing his research in cross-species breeding and its effect on progressive cultures.”

Alex deadpanned.

The good-natured smile plastered across Jeremiah’s face seemed to give Astra permission to continue, so she did.

“While I admit my constant travels do not allow for the time to delve into academic subjects, tonight has been an unexpected education.”

Alex gave her a once over before cocking her head back. This woman had to be humoring her father. Right? No one this side of the galaxy gave him the time of day. The brightest minds were more likely to disparage human thought and dismiss Earth’s scientists as “toddlers fumbling with Zeta-Beam tech.” In some circles, usually those hailing from exoplanetary locales, Jeremiah had been mocked as a naïve alien lover too obsessed with his work to notice the difference. After all, they said, what sociologist of interplanetary cultures would never have left their home planet?

Astra’s persistence in Jeremiah’s company that evening caused Alex concern. There had to be something in it for the general. She wanted something from her father. But what?


	3. The Proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for sexual assault. No detailed description. Just mentioned.

Alex wished she could say the party ended on a high note. She wished she could admit to having a few nice conversations with her peers or striking up a new mentorship that would promise her work off planet and see her pockets filled with gold and her sky raining chocolate truffles.

Who was she kidding? Alex was rarely honest with herself. What could be easier than avoiding the pain of hardship whether caused by oneself or forces outside their control? Reality hurts. Lying nice.

Just for the sake of argument, if she _were_ honest with herself, she would have to accept that her life was a series of very unfortunate events. Case in point: last night’s party where she got hit on by elderly men, pursued by a bleach blonde leech, propositioned by a married woman, and humiliated by a Kryptonian jarhead. Oorah.

Alex had had enough. She wanted to call it a night, regardless of having to uphold NCU staff policy. Fuck overtime. Her bed was calling to her.

But Jeremiah had her cornered. He seemed intent on bridging some connection between the three of them. Why? Who the hell knew. Of the three of them, two had advanced degrees and one was a military officer.

It would have been a simple thing to excuse herself, and kind-hearted Jeremiah would have let her. Therein lay the rub. Daughter’s guilt was a bitch. Alex loved him. He was her father and no one respected her more than him. The least she could do was humor him for a little while, offer respect where respect was due.

That night, Jeremiah didn’t seem deterred at taking the lead. He could talk about his work for hours on end and do so in a manner that left him in a sage light. Of all the men and women in attendance, Alex swore he was the wisest, most brilliant man. Arrogance had no place in his bones. He didn’t steal people’s thunder. He built up the confidence in his fellow academics by helping them realize their potential. In the end, the entire galaxy profited from knowledge. That was his saying. If people worked together, their combined contributions would restore wisdom to worlds without, bring water in sterile basins, and eliminate violence across war-torn fields. Her father, the lovable optimist. The punk philosopher.

The only skill he lacked was foresight. His exuberance in his work had a tendency to blind him to the deception of rival professors and repugnant benefactors. He’d been sold out in the past, fired from his job in Midvale, and played for a fool and discredited in some circles. And yet he picked himself up every time, dusted off his knees, and persisted despite all opposition.

Alex stood by her father that night. She pushed on, fatigued by the late hour and bitter over the general’s game. She put her feelings aside for him. Daughter’s guilt at work, though done out of much love.

Two days later, Alex found herself playing over the night. Not that she wanted to. A movie she couldn’t remember the name of had been playing on the television. The characters on screen were speaking but she wasn’t listening. Then the power went out – a usual occurrence during these times. In the event of a storm, the city prioritized service restoration by ensuring power to important residents, namely those living in penthouse suites. That left most common people to resort to their stock of candles.

Alex sat in her armchair and gripped her beer as she tried to quiet her mind. It should have been simple seeing as she scrapped out of another exhausting work day. The chair cushion carried a definitive hollow from these many sittings. The varnished oak of the chair’s arm contained scuffs from a tapping beer bottle. With power outages averaging four times a week and with Alex’s low-income lifestyle, this chair served as home base for much of her musings.

Thunder cracked. For a moment, a blue flash overcame the apartment before it returned to its candlelit charm. Alex sat with her back to the porch and the light show beyond it. She stared vacantly at her small living space, lulled by the sound of rain pattering the window. The _snap-tap_ pattern circled her, making her dazed and susceptible to a flashback. Two days ago, when ruffled by innocuous gray eyes and while family duty kept her rooted to the parquet floor.

After introductions were made, Jeremiah had spent the next thirty minutes explaining theories in cultural absorption. Astra had remained silent most of the time. When she did open her mouth, one-word responses discharged.

_Yes._

_No._

_Hm._

_Oh?_

_Farewell._

That last two syllable sendoff was quite a little curve ball. Alex almost congratulated her. A for effort. C for sincerity. And an automatic fail for that weird nerve twitch near her temple. The mental strain must have been killing Astra. Kindness must not be her forte.

Alex stopped short of amusement. She tipped back her beer for lack of a better response. The last thread of it slid down her throat, warm and flat. Alcohol managed to numb her insides, but she still could not rid herself of that nameless vibe. It prickled the back of her neck whenever she remembered the stare, the shifting eyes between her and her father. Most visitors would just come out with it. Alex wouldn’t call herself a weakling, but as a human she posed very little authority before a Kryptonian. If Astra had a question or a request, she had the power to assert herself. Why hadn’t she?

The enduring question brought on a wince.

“Ugh.” Alex turned her head away despite the futility of distancing herself from her own mind.

Why did it matter? Why couldn’t she just forget about that night? Suddenly, the rain became muffled and the thunder grew distant. Alex was surrounded by a soundless vacuum. The odor of leftovers drifted from her kitchen sink. Shadows bounded across the walls. The chair’s upholstered back and wings suddenly gave the impression of affording little shelter. Alex’s grip on the bottle flexed. She couldn’t forget because she still felt like she was being watched.

A spiteful crack snapped her out of it. Thunder returned with crashing certainty as the rain assaulted her windows once again. Alex shook her head. It wasn’t like her to jump at shadows or put stock in omens. So her hair stood on end. What of it? It’s just a bit nippy tonight, that’s all.

She rose out of her chair to grab another beer. It didn’t bother her that the rest of her stock had gone warm from the outage. An alcohol-induced stupor seemed just the ticket. No ill notions, shivers, or premonitions.

Alex closed the unit, beer in hand, and turned to an unexpected sight.

A dark figure loomed outside her window. Nay, _hovering_ outside her window. A spasmodic noise ejected from her mouth and she jumped back. 

The sound of Alex’s yelp shook the shadow’s head as if startled as well. Thoughtlessly, Alex made for the window, forgetting that she had an unopened bottle of beer in her hand (or perhaps she hung onto it on the off chance that it could be used to bludgeon her intruder).

The subconscious reflex was futile. Fog-smeared glass masked the figure’s face. Instead of escaping, being caught seemed to render them inert and as threatening as a monolith. Their motionlessness should have triggered a flight response, but Alex was far too incensed to know what was good for her.

Misting rain met her upon flinging open the door. Astra took it as permission to descend. Her toes touched the rain-soaked porch and held their ground. An undiscernible expression creased her face.

Alex’s cheeks burned red. Astra stared as if waiting for Alex to explain why she was in the entryway of her own porch.

Alex growled around her embarrassment. “How long have you been out here?”

“I am sorry for startling you. May I please come in?”

“Give me one good reason.”

Astra had but to wince under the lashing rain. Lightening played across her drenched features, highlighting the furrowed brow and sharp cheekbones. Her mouth pinched around a reply, seemingly unwilling to admit defeat by a little storm.

While Alex had a feeling Kryptonians could outlive a few bolts of lightning, she also felt responsible for this woman. Even the smoky rain of a summer night put an ill pallor on faces. Astra already looked sick from feebly hunched shoulders to fiercely clenched hands. Out of nowhere, that foreign feeling swelled up in Alex’s throat. Where had that guilt come from?

“Alright,” Alex swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed the door wider, “but don’t come in any further. You’re dripping on my hardwood floor.”

“They are very nice floors,” Astra said to them.

A drop rolled off the tip of her nose and splashed with the other puddles accumulating around her boots. The boots looked like military issue, as too did the rest of her. The body suit tricked the eye, especially at night. Only the shimmering rain which still hung wet on her svelte figure separated her from the shadows.

No sooner did Alex tear her gaze from the enduring bounce of a white lock than she took a step back. She turned her head slightly. “How do you know where I live?”

By some unnatural feat, Astra’s eyes reflected candlelight from ten feet away. “You are registered in a database, as are all employed Earth inhabitants. I have access to residential records on all UPL planets.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?”

“I can assure you, an officer of the Kryptonian Guard does not misuse their power. And if they should, their actions may be court-martialed.”

Alex folded her arms. “It’s that level of optimism that concerns me. Most conquering nations arrive with so-called moral intentions. It’s their faith in their objectives that blinds them.”

The corner of Astra’s eyebrow stiffened, perhaps to pin down a nerve trembling nearby. “The Guard has a longstanding reputation for civil service. We safeguard natural rights, social justice, and the dignity of all races. As per the oath I swore to uphold, it is not my intention to disconcert you or anyone else.”

A soldier’s ego could justify pretty much everything under the sun. Alex tempered her derision. “Tell that to 20th century Jews.”

“Is that a historical reference I should be familiar with?

Alex’s impatience gave way to a sigh. “Listen, you don’t look like someone who is undernourished, homeless, or a drug addict, so if you’re here to assault me, make your move. I may not be able to overpower you, but I do have a good set of lungs and my neighbor has a loaded thermal shotgun.” Alex settled her weight back on her foot and raised her fists. Despite the physical disparity between them, instinct flooded her veins making her blood hot and reactive. Raw adrenaline underplayed the presence of Kryptonian speed and muscle.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Alex snapped. “Abuse is just a pattern of life around here, same as getting mugged for groceries.” Astra’s confusion faltered, her complexion paling. It sparked annoyance in Alex. “This can’t be your first visit to Earth. Surely you expected me to be prepared. This isn’t my first time.”

“And you think I would do that to you?”

“I’ve fought off better looking people.” Alex bit back a cringe at how phony it sounded to her ears. Not the fighting part. She could hold her own just short of drawing a bit of her own blood. The false tone of her voice emphasized Astra’s looks. In fact, there was nothing ugly about this woman. Astra was unreasonably attractive, and part of Alex wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of her bidding. The thought tempted a surge of warmth in her belly, but she pushed it down with a bark. “ _Fine_. If you’re not here to attack me then state your business.”

Astra’s gaze tracked the falling fists, one of which still clutched a beer bottle. She then met Alex’s eyes and exhausted formality by straightening her posture. “I call on you for one reason. To speak with you.”

“Is this about my father?”

Caught by surprise, Astra hesitated. “In a way.”

The diverted gaze lasted a fraction of a second, but it didn’t fail to rouse Alex’s curiosity. She sucked her teeth in contemplation.

“I wish to speak with you,” Astra reiterated. “On neutral ground.”

Alex cocked her head back. “Neutral ground?”

“Not here.”

“… Okaay.”

“I will divulge everything once we have reached the destination of your choosing. I suggest we leave now before weather conditions worsen.”

“Okay, but you’re paying the cab fare.”

“We will not be taking ground transportation,” Astra said and as if that wasn’t direct enough, she glanced pointedly outdoors.

“No.” That one grave word discharged like the wind had been knocked out of her. Alex took a step back. Everyone knew what Kryptonians were capable of. Their Sol-given powers were what drew their race to Earth. The beer bottle nearly slipped from her perspiring fingertips. “Fly? With you? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“It is not customary, I realize.”

“No _fucking_ way.”

“The Earth’s gravity is scarcely hostile to my abilities. I will take us beyond the clouds where the storm will not reach us. It is a perfectly safe mode of –“

“Did you not hear what I said? _No_. I’ll call a taxi. I’m not going with you in that. You must be out of your damn –“

“Are you afraid?”

The cocked head and puzzled expression looked so innocent. If Alex didn’t know any better, she’d think Astra was as harmless as a child. No doubt another one of the general’s ploys to offset her enemy’s composure.

Alex didn’t like what was being insinuated in that question. She sized Astra up with her most lethal stink eye, offended that this… physically fit… adult woman… would dare taunt her. Alex’s intestines churned in response.

“No,” she replied, albeit weakly. “I’m not afraid.”

Astra offered her hand. Simply, no embellishment or impertinence.

A natural, healthy impulse to punch Astra in the face and run in the other direction tempted Alex. She swallowed the apple-sized lump in her throat and felt it plummet like a pit in her stomach. If this was concerning some Kryptonian scholarly cult her father pissed off, Alex would suffer any torture to protect him. It was just a matter of biting wind and rain. And lightening. And ear popping altitude. No seatbelt. No parachute. Nothing between her and a 2,000-foot plunge but an alarmingly shy Kryptonian.

“Yup,” she murmured aloud, although no question had been asked.

Astra cleared her throat. “Perhaps… leave the beverage?”

“Yup.”

Alex wheeled around, making a beeline for the kitchen. She felt the blood crowd beneath her cheeks as she bent down into her fridge. Goddamn that power surge. She could really use a cold blast of air. Those stupid eyes were burning into the back of her, disconcerting her with their amusement. Those smiling half-moon pairs daring Alex to thwart her logic.

“Where would you like to go?”

The smoothly articulated English beckoned Alex around. It occurred to her that this foreigner spoke without an accent. Then again, commanding officers might be required to undergo linguistics training if they were sent to a wide range of worlds. All that time spent cooped up in a star cruiser would provoke anyone bored enough to consume foreign languages. Better to warn the enemy in their native tongue before burning a hole through their ranks. Chivalry mattered.

A wicked idea implanted itself in Alex’s head. She smiled and said, “Princeton, New Jersey.”

“I have heard of this place. Princeton, New Jersey it is.”

“Seriously?” Suddenly, Alex felt very self-conscious in her t-shirt and sweatpants. “Like, right now?”

Astra wasted no time in appraising the cozy attire. “You may want to cover up in something warm.”

Considering they would be covering the length of the entire country, it boded well to follow such advice. Alex excused herself to slip on a sweater and sneakers. Upon reflection (not at all motivated by the dissatisfied look from Astra), she decided to add a long winter coat. Bad circulation aside, Alex would need the protection.

Fur lined hood drawn up and rubbing her hands together in anticipation, Alex stood before her transportation. “I’m ready. What’s next?” The tremble in those words could have meant a lot of things. Being cold wasn’t one of them.

Astra scooped her up without further ado.

The ferocity of a horizontal rain pelted them only long enough for Astra to slip through a break in the clouds. Soon, their rate of momentum slowed enough for Alex to pry her eyes open. She peered from under wet lashes, tightening her arms around Astra’s neck for lack of any other assurance. Below, the storm raged on but where Astra hovered all was tranquil. Above, an altogether different peace caught her eye. Alex barely felt the cold nipping her cheeks. The stars shined too brightly to overlook. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them. Their radiance begged for attention and the indulgence of lyrics. Alex might not be a wordsmith, but she had eyes and she poured everything into those stars.

She dared not speak. Their majesty humbled her, making her forget herself and anything that came before her. She felt young in their light. All wrongdoings seemed inconsequential to the energy each star expended in order to cross the galaxy. They burned for her and everyone on Earth, yet no one could enjoy them from ground level. The gluttony of humans and their reckless intervention shattered that privilege.

Alex couldn’t explain the prickling in her chest nor the catch of breath. God, why was it so beautiful? The stars evoked such stillness within her. She didn’t question why she was in the arms of a Kryptonian, one she’d exchanged only a few words with (most of them disdainful). She didn’t rage against fate and all the ill it had brought her.

“Have I upset you?”

The voice spoke from afar. It pulled Alex from paradise and she turned her head. Astra’s face was right there, but it wasn’t the nearness that shocked Alex into a gasp. It was the crevasses in Astra’s expression and the eyes searching for mortal wound.

“No,” Alex croaked over the brisk air. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them.” Her gaze drew back as if magnetized. She couldn’t justify her sudden earnestness in Astra’s presence and she didn’t want to.

“Would you like to go back?”

“I’m fine. Let’s continue.”

Astra merely nodded and carried her off in an easterly direction.

The night closed around them in a dusky fog. City lights popped up every so often but remained hazy. Alex had never seen clouds _below_ her quite like this. They stretched for miles like a carpet of watery milk. She shook within her parka. The temperature didn’t really bother her. She liked the quiet. She appreciated the safe speed at which Astra traveled.

The fur of her hood brushed against her cheek like cat whiskers. Alex turned away from the onrushing wind, taking a moment to warm her nose in their shared body heat. Flying with a Kryptonian didn’t disturb her as she thought it would. She knew of no human who had hitched a ride with one, nor did she get the feeling that either party (human or Kryptonian) would subject themselves to an embrace. Compared to Kryptonians, Alex’s race was vastly irredeemable in manners. Generally, Krypton didn’t waste its time with Earth’s inhabitants. Their tolerant behavior towards humanity was steeped in ulterior motives not the least of which were to energize themselves in Sol’s radiation.

That invigorating sensation Kryptonians experienced in yellow sunlight must have been contagious because Alex never felt so breathless. She wondered if Kryptonians felt like this all the time when on Earth.

During the trip, Astra’s route didn’t deviate. She flew a straight path, no sudden dives or jerking. A smooth ride with a side of chill. Alex tucked her face further inward. Cascading brown hair fluttered against her forehead. Astra smelled refreshingly nondescript. Dare Alex say clean as a blank canvas. She bit into her cheek and faced into the headwind.

They arrived in New Jersey before midnight. The buildings of Princeton’s campus were outlined by streetlamps and the blue glow from corner security checkpoints. The university had electricity. How nice for them.

Astra veered toward the center of campus and descended to a broad rooftop topped by a greenhouse. “Careful. You will experience momentary vertigo.”

Alex’s sneakers chewed at the gravel. Though the ground felt solid, her legs wobbled like those of a newborn fawn.

It took a few seconds but soon her balance settled and her stomach returned to her body. Alex pushed her hood back and discharged a foggy sigh. It might be cold on the rooftop but it was a marked change from where she descended.

Alex finally took notice of the pressure cupping her elbows. “Thanks,” she said, stepped out of the ginger hold.

Astra drew back, lips thin, and nodded. The greenhouse lamps heating the plants nearby gave off a light that escaped its glass confines. It splashed her face in a warm apricot glow. Her features grew immeasurably softer. “Why Princeton, New Jersey?”

Alex blinked. “Pardon?”

“We could have flown anywhere on Earth. This is the destination you chose.”

“Oh, um… Yeah, I used to live here.” Alex swiveled around, peering through the dusk until she spotted a familiar outline. “There,” she pointed out a gothic style tower, “that was where I spent most of my twenties.”

“You like to read,” murmured Astra. Crinkles formed at the corners of her eyes. Her advanced eyesight penetrated layers of glass and masonry where a trove of books was stacked, catalogued, and waiting to be thumbed.

“A typical master’s program doesn’t take the usual two years. Money is tight and tuition is ridiculous. It took me six years to earn my degree.” Alex diverted her eyes from the library, a place she once called home. “All that work and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere.”

Alex didn’t bother clearing the thickness coating her throat. It wasn’t bitterness. She enjoyed her time at university. What kind of science geek didn’t like being around their own kind? Incoming students didn’t realize how common their obsession was until they entered graduate school. Everyone read, sacrificed their social life, drank lethal doses of coffee, and occasionally attended lecture in yesterday’s clothes. That was the life of a graduate student, a life worth whining about while simultaneously unwilling to pry their cold dead hands from their dissertation notes.

The result of such hard work afforded little to be proud of. Alex may be well educated but at what cost? Thousands of dollars and years of heartburn, paper cuts, and insomnia. How was she rewarded? With debt. What had she achieved with a master’s degree in bioengineering? Two grueling jobs, one of which made her a slave to someone else’s research.

All those dreams of being published and traveling around the galaxy had turned to dust. Every year that trudged by without a job offer or a winning lottery ticket sprouted yet another seed of disappointment.

A simmering heat blossomed in Alex’s chest. She took a deep breath, realizing all of it had been said out loud. Save for breathlessness, she didn’t feel any different, no burden off her shoulders nor a sense of mortification.

Amazingly enough, her rant hadn’t been interrupted. She peered at Astra through tears accumulating heavily in her eyes. Astra stood there, neither impressed nor indifferent and was listening with a patient tilt of her head. If she was waiting for a plot twist featuring a fairy godmother then she’d be disappointed.

“There is no happy ending for people like me,” Alex said. Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets as she panned down to the little crater in the gravel. She dug up pebbles with the toe of her sneaker. It might as well be her grave. “It’s just the way things are.”

“I am sorry,” Astra said. “I did not know it was like that for humans.”

“It’s the case for most of us here. My parents don’t have off-planet connections. I wasn’t born into a wealthy tribe or dynasty.”

Astra had the sense to bow her head.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not resentful of people who have it better than me.” Alex scratched her eyebrow to mask the flinch. For some reason, it discomforted her to see Astra carrying shame on her shoulders. “As long as their privilege doesn’t go to their heads and they’re not using it to screw over people. I’m not looking for a hand out. I just want to earn my place. I don’t want pity.”

“That is understandable. For some, it takes a poverty-stricken lifestyle to earn humility. It is doubtful that anyone attains full self-actualization from it. That is the point. True humility derives in the journey. Not everyone, however, would agree. In my travels, I have seen many cultures. All seem to have their own meaning of humility as they do for poverty, enlightenment, motivation…” Astra dragged off with a rolling hand gesture implying _etcetera_.

It had to be the most Alex heard her speak. And quite eloquently, contrary to the bobbling utterances of before. Alex thought her own eyes might bulge out of their sockets. She didn’t know what to expect. That Astra had thoughts was not one of them.

“Here I thought modesty was a universal concept.”

Astra responded with an animated (for a general) raise of her eyebrows. “I can assure you it is not.”

Gravel crunched under Alex’s shifting weight. She peered closely at Astra and asked, “Would you consider yourself to be a modest person?”

“I don’t know,” Astra replied, frowning. “Is it not an objective we all strive for?”

“I suppose a modest person would give their passenger the choice of destination before whisking them away in the middle of the night.” Alex folded her arms. She wouldn’t let Astra off easily because of impressive diction. “Just what is it you wanted to talk to me about? And why could we not have this conversation at my place?”

“The location was not as important as what you have to say in response.” Astra paused, gaze stretching into a distant point over Alex’s shoulder before returning. “If things had been different,” she mused gently. "If you had been born into a family with means and given ample opportunity by your government, would you have continued your schooling?”

“Well…” The suspicion marching circles around her head took up with the wind. Alex felt her tongue loosen, encouraged by the innocent question laid before her. “Well, I planned on applying to Princeton’s PhD program. For as long as I can remember, it’s been my dream to be a scientist. My mom used to bring home classroom lab equipment for me to play with.” At Astra’s raised brow, Alex added, “Under supervision, of course. I wasn’t a pyromaniac or anything. I’ll admit to getting a high due to the fact that I could use a Bunsen burner better than my mom’s students…”

As she droned on, it occurred to her that Astra had baited her again. Alex took it hook, line, and sinker and damn it if she didn’t talk unreservedly for 20 minutes straight. Astra’s manner was so patient and impartial. She nodded occasionally or scrunched her brows together or tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. Otherwise, Alex got no argument from her. It was so refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t want anything from her.

By now, her nose had thawed in the mildly cool air. Despite Astra’s elusive aims, Alex was borderline thrilled to be freezing her ass off on a rooftop in New Jersey. This little big trip brought out spontaneity and adventure where none thrived. Briefly, between ramblings on her aspirations, Alex wondered if Astra had nothing better to do than escort a nobody like her around, but she quickly swallowed the urge to ask. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Alex’s stomach simultaneously flipped and sparked with excitement. Her feet felt so light it was as if they had sprouted wings (and she was not being flown in Astra’s arms). She felt rebellious and… content; not necessarily happy but a vague substitute. She couldn’t remember feeling content. At least not in recent memory.

Sometime later, a winded Alex realized she was still talking and Astra still appeared to be listening. She paused to take a breath. “So, she screwed me over for tenure. That’s what I get for sleeping with a colleague. Hell, I don’t even blame Karen. I think I would have done the same in her position. Anyway, that was last month and I’m still where I was two years ago.” She shrugged at how futile it sounded out loud. “It’s not really a matter of money anymore. The university doesn’t have the space to take on an assistant professor. I could look elsewhere but it’s the same all over. The whole job market on Earth is a crapshoot.”

Gravel crunched under her shifting sneakers. Alex sighed, watching her breath condense in the cold night air. “It’s not even the quality of work that bothers me anymore. You know, my great-great grandmother lived in an age where everyone had a chance to contribute to society. As long as you had the ability and the desire. Nowadays you can’t go two blocks without being reminded that there is no society to provide for. There is no future for Earth, no advancement, no evolution. _That’s_ what pisses me off.” The tips of her fingers were fixed to her chest as if scrambling to clutch an unattainable notion. She spoke vehemently, “I have all these curiosities in me. I have this drive to make change and nowhere to release it. I don’t want to stand by and watch people – myself included – waste away on a forgotten planet. I want to contribute as my family has before me.” She threw her hands up and let them slap to her thighs. “Yet here I am too overworked by my jobs to make a difference. It’s like I’m pushing against a brick wall and –“

“I apologize if this sounds forward, but I feel something for you.”

The distance between them had been reduced by a stride. Astra’s breath had turned into a vaporous storm. Alex didn’t know what to make of any of it. The abrupt interruption had her blinking back. “I… I don’t understand.” She thrust her head forward, eyes narrowed and straining to unravel the wide-eyed, relentless enigma standing before her. “You feel something?”

“I think I love you.”

Alex wasn’t sure who she wanted to slap – Astra or herself. Failing to snap out of it, she shook her head, dumfounded. “Excuse me?”

“I’m leaving in a few days to return to my post in the Kinto Arm region. I would like you to join me, to… live with me. You will want for nothing. I promise you a life unlike any other you would find here on Earth. Or elsewhere. What is your answer?”

“Alright, slow down.” This was just brilliant luck. Alex opened up about her hopes and dreams to the first person who showed her the time of day and somehow this alien read into that as a courtship ritual. Alex pressed her fingers to her head and massaged her thumping skull. “You _love_ me? Since when? We just met two days ago.”

The expectant look on Astra’s face melted. Frown lines deepened around her mouth. “You do not sound pleased,” she said in a voice gone weak. All the light had fizzled from her eyes. “We had a pleasant discourse at the gala. I thought we were of the same mind.”

“The national anthem is longer than our entire discourse since we met. We barely exchanged a few words that night. I mean, I brushed you off! How did you get _marriage_ from that? I didn’t even like you. I thought you were a half-wit.”

“You called me brave for my extended military service.”

Alex choked out a humorous cackle. “Oh my god. I was being _polite_. My father was there. And for the record, it wasn’t until you came back, attached to his hip, that I realized I was wrong. You weren’t a half-wit. You were a scheming witch whose sole purpose was to make a fool of me.”

“Those are spiteful words to be using against your superior. I will forgive you out of the goodness of my heart.”

Alex’s head was spinning. “Is this why you wanted to talk to me? To propose?”

The directness of the question sobered Astra. She dropped her gaze to the ground. Her cheeks even paled under the warm greenhouse light. “I realize I may come across as timid and somewhat course due to my not being acquainted with your human ways, but my manners are wholesome.” Her eyes snapped up, now hopeful and unflinching to her words. “I promise you, Alexandra, as your wife I will commit my full self to your happiness and always put yours before my own. I will not hurt you as your previous colleague, Karen, has.”

“Listen, I appreciate the gesture. Sincerity is hard to come by in a partner these days and it seems like your… heart… is in the right place. It’s heroic of you to be putting yourself out there, and I’m not about to insult your integrity but what the actual fuck?”

At any other time, Astra’s sporadic blinks of shock would have triggered amusement in Alex. Except for the occasional diverted gazes and worried brow, the general hardened herself against any signs of being ruffled. It seemed best at present, however, to curb any further profanities to save the woman’s eyelids.

“Is it a matter of your family’s blessing?” Astra asked gently. “I can assure you that they will provoke no impediment. Your father is favorable to the match.”

“You spoke to my father?” Alex’s cheeks burned. “How dare you talk about me behind my back! You conned him into this, didn’t you? That’s why you two were so chummy at the party. You thought getting in his good graces would make him more agreeable. Well, you’ve completely misjudged the situation. He wouldn’t dare ship me off on some military vessel with a total stranger.”

Deep furrows lined Astra’s forehead. She tilted her head in confusion. “But he consented to the marriage. He agreed that it would be a fine opportunity for you.”

“And what about _my_ consent? Do I have no say in the matter?”

“That is why I am here – to receive your answer.”

“Christ,” Alex muttered, scrubbing her face. “You really are an alien. And an insufferable one too.”

“I resent that.”

“Good. Wait, which part?”

“You identified me by a word that is derogatory.”

“Alien?”

While the three syllables made no difference to Alex, they provoked a flinch in Astra. Alex had the presence of mind to drop her gaze. She stared at her shoes as they scuffed the gravel. “Sorry.”

“I can forget the oversight.” Astra gave way to a sigh. “Earth has polluted your understanding of other beings. You will soon learn your place after we have departed from this planet.”

That snapped Alex’s head up. “I never said I’d go with you.”

Astra’s brow arched in a way that spoke of a general using sage advice in dressing down their unit. “Though I admit that my perception may be weakened by my ignorance of Earth customs, I see no impediment here.”

“Just a few minutes ago you asked me to marry you and accompany you and your fleet a million light years from my home, and you expect me to answer _now_?”

“To be perfectly accurate, we will be traveling 126 million light years from our present location in the Sol System –“

“I don’t give a fuck!” Alex shouted, struggling to regain the high ground. If shaking her fists in midair didn’t get her anywhere, raising her voice might. “Do you not understand what you’re asking me?!”

That perturbed scrunch resurfaced in Astra’s expression as she looked around. Lifeless buildings and noiseless streets surrounded them. A veritable ghost town. “What is there to leave behind?”

Astra had her there. Alex’s shoulders fell out of futility. Astra may lack tact, but she was right: there was nothing left for her on Earth. She would be leaving nothing behind but dusty memories and dreams for the unattainable.

When it became obvious that Alex wasn’t going to answer, Astra held her gaze for a long moment. In the stretching silence, her stare never flinched. Even when her hair, stirred by a gust of wind, flapped against her cheek and curled around her neck, she remained attuned to their predicament. When a passing airship rumbled overhead, it failed to distract her thoughts.

“ _Astra_ …”

“I’m sorry.” Pensive expression now broken, Astra fashioned the melancholiest eyes a woman of her stature could muster. “I have not taken into account how this might affect other aspects of your life. Your friends and family will mourn your absence as you will theirs. This is a blow and I am sorry for the indifference I showed to your feelings. Please forgive my abrupt behavior. My intentions were honorable, I assure you. I only wish to offer you a chance for something more. Is that not what everyone wishes? More?”

“I don’t know what other people want.” Alex caught her bottom lip between her teeth, restraining the overwhelming urge to sob. “I don’t know what I want.”

Astra gave a nodding motion. “Despite your fervent objections, I harbor no ill feelings. My offer stands. I will grant you two days to change your mind. My shuttle leaves Tuesday morning. Please trust that I will respect your decision whatever that may be.”

Any foreseeable reply caught in Alex’s throat. She could only nod in response. The eloquence with which Astra spoke, coupled with the respect she showed Alex, warred with other aspects of her personality. How can a general be presumptuous one minute and tongue tied the next? How could the Kryptonian be nurturing under the stars and insensitive on the ground?

Alex shook off the questions. It was wrong to pigeonhole people based on titles and surface characteristics. Her parents taught her better. Sometimes strangers deserved the benefit of the doubt. Astra might be many things while simultaneously not be others. The only way Alex would find out just who Astra was beyond the introverted general was to make a damn decision.

Astra delivered her back to her apartment. They exchanged no words during the flight. Alex had a difficult time coming to terms with what just happened. Perhaps if she was not in the arms of her maybe-soon-to-be fiancée, the cool air would have cleared her head.

The apartment was as she had left it; candles softly burning down and shadows scuttling the walls. Astra left her with contact details. The hotel where she and her crew were staying was temporary until their leave expired. Alex didn’t know what to say and Astra took that as her cue to go.

Though the storm that had been raging earlier that night had petered off to a drizzle, the power had yet to be restored. Rain drops fell so faint against her window, the entire apartment filled with silence. And not just any silence.

Alex flopped back on her armchair. Her ears buzzed and strained to pick up the slightest sound be it the scampering of a rat or the rattling of a broken furnace. With no distractions to occupy her, she had no choice but to tread through this sticky burden, struggling to keep her wits above water. It would take more than two days for Astra’s proposal to sink in.

After taking a few measured breaths, she bent forward, elbows on her knees and face buried in her hands. Her thoughts spiraled out of control and turned to a subject she normally avoided for most of her adult life: marriage.

Alex was in her late twenties and still living with her parents. Those facts were so apparent that they sought to beat her over the head every day. Every morning during her walk to work she was met with grungy beggars slouching in street alcoves. Every sulking look from them was a reminder that humans these days didn’t have the financial stability to live independently unless they were married off.

Alex didn’t have wealth nor did she have the inclination to tie herself to another being (human or otherwise). Hence why she lived across the hall from Mom and Dad. After Princeton, she had dreams of returning to school and earning her PhD in bioengineering. But her plan wasn’t financially possible. She continued to work diligently in saving for tuition with nothing to show for it.

While a few of her peers were getting married and living decadent lifestyles on space stations and in exotic ecosystems, Alex just wanted to live a life of choice and freedom. She treasured her independence, but she knew how her dreams burdened her parents. It occurred to her that she might never attain the means to live on her own. She’d have to marry and leave her ideals behind in order to give her parents the retirement they so longed for. Eliza and Jeremiah had never expressly pushed Alex towards marriage, but it was evident in their accepted invitations to parties and the grimaces whenever Alex turned down another proposal. And she had received more than a few.

Alex sighed. She could really use a beer at the moment, but she knew the proposal laid before her would require a sober head. Most decisions she made with alcohol. Seeing as this recent one was a tad more life altering than the others, it seemed wise to break with tradition.

Padding into the kitchen, she opened her fridge and grabbed a jug of orange juice. The gritty pulp slid thickly down her throat and she cringed around its tepidness. It wasn’t long before the comms device drew her eye. It lay there on her countertop, innocuous as a gun.

Could it be that Alex was being imprudent? Were her standards so high that she would turn down a perfectly good marriage proposal? Alex shook her head violently. No, that was her mother talking. While Astra wasn’t hard on the eyes, she gave no impression of having a true heart. There was no passion in her eyes when regarding her beloved, no emotion in her voice when speaking of love. Astra seemed to be as dull as soldiers came. She and Astra couldn’t possibly have anything in common.

And yet a union with a Kryptonian of noble birth might grant Alex opportunities she only dreamed of. How harmless could Astra be? What could she possibly lose in accepting a ticket off this rock?

Alex drew closer to the phone, hair prickling the back of her neck and fingertips sweating. All it took to decide was a reach and a dial.

Whatever the cost, it couldn’t amount to the turmoil Alex was already living. Between the daily violence on the streets and the stagnant economy, there was no “making the best of things.” Cute tag-lines like those rusting over on car bumpers were officially obsolete. The declining quality of life on Earth had triggered her breaking point.

Alex had made some poor decisions in her life. If marrying Astra ended up being one of them… Oh, well. It couldn’t be her worst.


	4. The Archetype

There were benefits to marriage, especially a marriage to an off-worlder. Alex wouldn’t have admitted it before, but she could now say with certainty that being someone’s wife had its perks.

Perk Number One: the house. Or rather, a mobile house propelled by the most powerful hyperdrive in existence. Two vital things to take note of: a _house_ that _moved_. Alex could not stress that enough in the message to her parents.

The excitement over space travel had unknowingly built up over the years. Alex spent her childhood in Midvale. Not a day went by when she didn’t long for the salty air and the full two floors to roam through. Nothing frustrated her more than being rooted in one place. From a young age, Alex understood that she took up a miniscule space in an ever-expanding universe. Even living in bustling Midvale, Alex knew that her world was as insignificant as a grain of sand amongst thousands on just one beach of millions. There were mysteries beyond the Earth that tugged on her curiosity.

Though the United Planetary League had been in existence for centuries, it was impossible to say that its Science Division had documented all complex biologics in the universe. There were discoveries out there waiting to be unearthed, new planets to explore. Who knows? Maybe out there in the vast, unknown reaches an intelligent race was stretching their technology in the hopes that their call will be heard.

Alex wanted nothing more than to be out there. That’s where scientists made breakthroughs. Whether it happened in the lab or the field, advancements were tested, applied, and enhanced against impossible obstacles. Science had proven that miracles were possible and Alex wanted to be a part of a miracle. Nothing bold or enterprising happened on Earth anymore. The last noteworthy discovery made by humans on their decrepit world had occurred over a century ago. Alex’s parents hadn’t even been born yet.

The prospect of discovering her potential in that wide expanse brought one word to mind: travel. Currently, the best means of travel lied in faster than light drives. Nearly every spacecraft had an FTL propulsion system. Vehicles such as shuttles and starfighters did not have the engine requirements for long-distance travel. Instead, their ion drives were utilized for subspace (non-FTL) travel, atmospheric flight, and orbital navigation. The majority of their fuel was burned for agile maneuvers. That was what supplied starfighters such an advantage on the battlefield. With thrusters and skilled hands at the controls, a fighter could escape the tightest scrapes.

Astra’s craft could hardly be described as a ship. The Endurance-class carrier cast an enormous shadow. It measured 10 football fields from stern to bow. While hulking in size, the _Divivestnik_ sailed as smooth a course as any in her class.

For a ship accommodating 2,000 men and women, there were a number of priority systems in use, not the least of which was life support. Such energies required a high-performance engine. During Astra’s tour, they had traveled many hallways and lifts. It took hours to cover every level and major accommodation. Alex was left wondering how the ship stayed so quiet onboard. Even with ion drives engaged, she could hear a pin drop in her quarters.

Onboard, an organized system of corridors led to a variety of spaces. Among them were living quarters, a mess hall, medical bay, science lab, main bridge, a training facility, a hangar bay housing forty starfighters and twelve light transports, and the like. If that were not enough, there was an observation lounge for those who fancied a cocktail and the scenic panorama of outer space. Alex made a mental note of its location.

Every deck had a purpose as such that streamlined ship performance. Although Astra held the highest rank, she did not assume control over the ship. That role fell to Captain Jack Harkness or Jack as he preferred to be called. Jack was human, much to Alex’s surprise. During the tour, she had shaken hands and exchanged greetings with many crewmembers under Astra’s command, all of whom were Kryptonian. Some hailed from Krypton while others were raised off-planet, but the two unifying traits among them were their race and their devotion to Kryptonian excellence.

One had to wonder if the crew had misgivings about serving under a human captain. Jack seemed a trifle giddy upon first meeting. He had a half smile that put all space pirates to shame. The natural windblown quality of his hair beat the most air brushed models this side of the galaxy.

Despite his larger-than-life personality, Jack became something of a cushion to Alex’s free fall into the world of martial severity. She felt at ease for the first time since stepping on board. No one else cracked a smile upon meeting the newest member of their crew, not in front of the general. Jack also spared no shame in mentioning the ship-wide bet on Astra’s love life. The news provoked a blush in Astra that Alex discerned as a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.

For a captain of the most utilitarian starship ever made, Jack possessed otherworldly charisma. He was a wise guy with cleverness and the prudence of a teenager. Alex would have expected someone a little more… mature, though she had to catch herself in her thought process. Lately, her first impressions were off the mark. Nevertheless, Jack seemed so laidback he might forgive any oversights. As long as she didn’t maim his beloved ship. Step on his toes, sure, but breach his hull? Scuff a centimeter of woven, reinforced laminasteel? That was a deal breaker.

Astra might not have command over the ship, but she did have an informal say in how procedures were carried out. At first glance, she and Jack appeared to be suitable associates, the former participating out of reluctance while the latter out of brotherly love. Alex relished the moment she got the lowdown on their story. She had a feeling Jack’s perspective might shed a different light on Astra. And Alex expected to be regaled of all the embarrassing details.

The _Divivestnik_ would be Alex’s home for the indefinite future. Its massive size didn’t deter her. There would be ample time to explore every nook and cranny. As long as the ship kept in motion, Alex was content. All those years spent rooted on Earth brought out a thirst for speed, motion, action, and, most importantly, adventure. Now that she had escaped, lightyears of space awaited her. All due thanks to her wife. Without Astra, Alex would be sipping lukewarm beer after yet another soul-sucking day of work. Which ushers in Perk Number Two.

Being newly married might not present her a new career on a silver platter, but it would bring her one step closer (Perk Two). Astra had the resources and the contacts to get Alex started. Having travelled the galaxy during much of her adulthood, Astra had to know the reputation of various universities in the United Planetary League.

So far, Alex had entertained few doubts. She tried to stay optimistic, namely by accepting that her aspirations would never have become a reality if she had stayed on Earth. That’s just not how the galaxy operated. As per standard marital customs, Astra sent a monthly stipend to Alex’s parents. Eliza and Jeremiah, as in-laws to a wealthy, noble born Kryptonian, would avoid the destitute fate that many families on Earth faced. Alex’s parents would not have to suffer and that was one of the best outcomes of marrying above her station.

Hence Perk Number Three. Whatever their faults, Alex loved her parents. Getting married and following her wife god knows where didn’t mean leaving them behind to be forgotten. If the money could make Eliza’s and Jeremiah’s lives a little easier then accepting Astra’s proposal would have been worth it.

Alex told herself she married out of a sense of pragmatism. She had to be proactive and go out into the galaxy and seize life by the throat. After all, no one got anything by lying in wait and waving as opportunity passed them by. 

* * *

Alex sat on the sofa waiting for Astra to return from a briefing with her superiors. She had been away for over an hour, leaving her new wife alone in their plainly decorated cabin. The place was nothing to write home about. It had a kitchenette, a lounge for receiving guests, and an enclosed bedroom and ensuite.

She checked her watch and subsequently rolled her eyes at the uselessness. While the hands indicated 4:32PM, the chronometer on the bookshelf read 11:32PM. Alex vaguely remembered Astra ticking off ship protocols during the tour, one of which happened to include time keeping. Ship tasks were performed on a similar system to Earth’s. Each crewmember functioned on one of three work shifts. The three-shift rotation was based on a 24-hour cycle. Wherever they were in the galaxy, regardless of time relativity, all starships operated on the same official time zone. This worked due to their ability to send and receive communications when traveling faster than light.

While the crew on night shift were preparing to punch in, that didn’t discount the fact that Alex’s internal clock was still on Pacific Standard Time. She felt like taking a lift down to the training room for a quick 3K run. How was she supposed to _sleep_ in the next hour? Instead of risking a wrong turn and acquiring the title of “Stray Human Danvers,” she decided to stay put and make herself comfortable.

It had now been two hours since Astra left with instructions to “Make yourself at home.” Alex didn’t mind being forgotten for a little while. With her thumb, she cracked the knuckles of her right hand. It was the thought of Astra returning that agitated her.

Muck like their wedding ceremony, their first night together as wives had been nothing short of uneventful. Astra, whether out of chivalry or first-time jitters, suggested they get some sleep before they embark on their journey out of Sol system. Boarding a carrier bustling with 2,000 crew could be a taxing experience, especially for a newcomer. It took time for the human body to adapt to artificial gravity. There was also the matter of spatial disorientation. The ship comprised twelve decks and over 40 turbolifts; it took thirty minutes to travel from port to starboard. Astra prepared her for the stark reality of getting lost in the first week. Although Alex didn’t like the vote of confidence in her navigation skills (or lack thereof), she appreciated being able to fall asleep next a stranger who didn’t demand intimacy.

And yet it only postponed the inevitable. The expectations that came with consummating a marriage would come (and, hopefully, so would they). Alex didn’t feel any undue pressure to satisfy her wife. Astra didn’t give the impression of having a firm hand, at least not with her significant other. Judging by the rigid postures of the men and women Alex came across during the tour, Astra’s soldiers received the sharpest of her edges.

Since that night Astra showed up unannounced on Alex’s porch, however, she had been nothing but kind in the most awkward of ways. She had her faults, but so far she had treated Alex fairly.

So why did her chest feel so tight? Alex massaged her sternum as if to work out a swell of heartburn. It wasn’t that she was bothered by being naked with Astra. Sex and nervousness were two contradictory concepts in Alex’s book. She liked to think she had a healthy body image. Her experience earned a modestly high rating based on the bedroom feedback she received from past lovers. On a scale from whore to prude, Alex fell somewhere in the middle.

It wasn’t the sex. What tied her up in knots was the thought of her future with Astra on this enormous ship. What happened if they didn’t get along? What if they couldn’t work things out and spent the rest of their lives sulking on opposite sides of the bed?

Alex tried to see herself being satisfied in a loveless marriage seeing as it started on a rather businesslike note. From the onset, there was no indication that this arrangement would lead to a great love story or even an ordinary one. There were no sparks or sweaty palms upon first sight. At least not on her end.

There was no telling where this pressure to achieve wedded bliss came from. Just thinking about it doubled her stress level.

With a sigh, Alex gave up and headed into the bedroom. If Astra thought she’d wring her hands for a solid two hours, she could think again.

Like the living room, the bedroom was furnished to minimum standards. A cool white light that was supposed to simulate daylight pooled out from beneath the bed. It carried a blue tint, tricking Alex into believing she was walking on water.

The room encompassed various shades of gray and black. The exceptions being a large canvas hanging above the bed. Alex wouldn’t have pegged Astra as an abstract art collector much less an art connoisseur. The starburst pattern shaded in red, orange, and yellow brightened the room. A funny feeling rose up in Alex. It was warm and tickled like the wispy feathers of beach grass. It almost, _almost_ , soothed the knot in her chest.

Sporting a fresh pair of flannel bottoms and a t-shirt, Alex pulled back the covers and tested her pillow’s fluffiness with a smack. A bit firmer than she was used to but oh well. Time to wear it in.

She had her knee on the bed when a hiss of air alerted her to the parting front door.

“Alexandra?”

The door slid shut. Two dull thumps indicated boots being cast aside.

“I’m in here,” called Alex.

Astra stopped at the threshold of the bedroom. “There you are.” Her gaze roamed around the room as if there were better places for Alex to be standing. “I’m sorry for keeping you. I made a detour to the training facility. I thought it appropriate to shower before returning.”

Alex remembered passing through the fully equipped training deck earlier that day. The facility had an aquatics area, cardio equipment, a strength training room, a shooting range, and a track that wound around a mat lined gymnasium accessible to fisted combat and bladed skirmishes. The deck also had several studios for private training sessions and a waxed court for playing the kind of sports a human would hardly recognize. And lest Alex forget the gender-neutral showers (apparently, Kryptonian attitudes towards gender identity and expression were highly developed).

The probability that Astra had undressed next to a strapping, ab-sculpted male was not cause for Alex’s frown. She looked at the soft gray tunic and trousers and couldn’t remember seeing Astra in anything other than black. Nor could she admit to catching her with her hair tied up. The kinked, damp knot might look like a massive departure from the sharply dressed general, but it kept her shirt dry nonetheless.

“You took a shower in the locker room?” asked Alex. “What’s wrong with our ensuite?”

“Oh, nothing. I engaged in a hand-to-hand match with a sergeant in my unit. It was a rather vigorous match. Thus, the necessity for a shower.”

“Needed to let off some steam,” gathered Alex with a nod. She took a seat at the end of the bed. “I take it chats with your boss have that effect.”

“At times.”

“Are you allowed to talk about your operations?”

When Astra moved to sit beside her, Alex didn’t bat an eye. “It is against protocol to outline mission specifics with personnel whether they are members of the crew or enlisted in the Guard. Even my personal unit is not briefed of their mission until I receive authorization from Admiral Zhao who is my immediate superior. Holding back sensitive intelligence is critical in case our communications are intercepted by antagonist forces. Our missions are held under the upmost secrecy.”

“So I don’t get special security clearance as your wife?” At Astra’s developing aghast, Alex gave a chuckle and added, “It’s a joke.”

Astra inclined her head. “I will apprise you of our destination and course. That much is common knowledge. And you will always know where I am, on or off the ship.”

With a motion of her hand, Alex waved her off. “I’m not offended or anything. In fact, if you went into detail about your work, I’m afraid I wouldn’t comprehend anyway. I wasn’t raised in a military family. I’m not familiar with your jargon. I do, however, understand the need for protocol, so I respect your discretion.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

The gray knit blanket beneath them contained a pattern of raised impressions. Alex settled her finger in one of the dips, circling its shell in thought. Everything about the room was foreign to Alex and yet she felt like the most alien feature. Sitting next to her was a very quiet Astra, a creature born from a chamber instead of a womb. She had more of a right to be there than Alex. These were her stars, her space to navigate. How could Alex ever gain a sense of belonging?

Her bare toes skimmed the carpet as she hedged. “Why were you at that party?”

The question didn’t seem to alarm Astra. She shrugged and said, “I was supposed to be on leave; this is free time to do with as we wish. I had no immediate plans on Earth, so the admiral tasked me to represent our people at the university gala.”

Ulterior motives were slippery things. They were like double agents, working everyone, including themselves, to suit a purpose. Alex couldn’t tell if she was lying. That kind of unsettled her, considering this was her wife and she didn’t know what Astra was capable of.

The gray of Astra’s eyes held a mysterious quality to them that was distinct from the lifeless décor surrounding them. They bore right through Alex, studying her boundaries, her nerves, and the minute tensions affecting her posture.

Suddenly, Astra broke eye contact. She bowed her head, staring at the hands clasped in her lap. The proper form must not have been deemed useful because she redirected each hand to lay on a thigh, stroking back and forth. Alex wondered if those palms were as sweaty as the ones she was hiding. The long silences between conversation caused her finger’s fascination with the blanket to steal under her thighs. She hadn’t forgotten what Astra admitted to her on a rooftop in New Jersey, nor how her eyes saddened around those words.

“Think of me what you will,” Astra said, “but know that I would never take advantage of you.” The tenderness in her voice startled Alex more than the commitment staring back. Astra’s hands had stopped their anxious movement. She was now beckoning Alex with her unflinching attention. “I made a vow to honor and keep you, to never deceive you. I recognize the struggle you carry on your shoulders. This is not a marriage but a transaction to you. Be that as it may, there is a chasm here,” she lay her hand on the bed, pinky finger an inch from Alex’s thigh, “and it will only grow if we are to fill this space with secrets and idleness.” Errant strands of hair that had escaped her knot brushed her neck as she shook her head. “I do not wish for any misunderstandings between us. You should feel free to ask me anything.”

Although Alex appreciated the sentiment, she found its delivery more than necessary. Between the eyes and the way the bedroom light made her expression bluer, Astra’s idea of their marriage dripped in sentimentality. It made Alex none too comfortable.

“Well, same here.” Try as she might, Alex couldn’t soothe her voice to match Astra’s. “You can ask me anything. Although, you probably have noticed that I have a tendency to ramble.”

If Astra was heeding a word that was said, she showed it poorly for her eyes were fixated on Alex’s mouth. She was silent for a while. The seconds expired one after the other. Her gaze did not. “May I kiss you, Alexandra?”

“It’s Alex. And, yes, you can kiss me.”

“You are not… averse to engaging in the intimacies of a partnership?”

“No.”

“It is not a requirement. If you have any doubts at all,” the pitch of Astra’s voice stretched thin as did the tuft of blanket in her grasp, “if you prefer to sleep separately –“

“Astra, I’m fine with this arrangement. Unless…” Alex banished the appraisal in her gaze and relaxed her inquiry for the sake of their linens. “Unless you have objections?”

“I do not.”

As Astra’s nerves mounted, Alex found the tightness in her chest alleviating. She liked having the upper hand, especially in the bedroom. The misconceptions about being married to this woman were steadily melting away. While Astra might be a seasoned war veteran, there were moments in private when those rough edges softened to pudding.

A smirk found its way to Alex’s lips. “Do you find me attractive?”

Judging by Astra’s hooded gaze, the act of answering while following the tongue wetting Alex’s lip required monumental brain power. She was just not equipped at the moment, so she settled for a nod.

Alex decided to put her out of her misery by kissing first. By getting it out of the way, perhaps Astra's nerves would settle.

The connection felt as it had when sealing their vows: dry and unexceptional. Alex tried again in the hopes (nay, in having the self-respect) to feel something. Her tongue slid along Astra’s bottom lip, coaxing a gasp that encouraged Alex’s ego. Finally, Astra was responding. Sucker. Alex cupped a finely sculpted cheek and guided them together again. By the fourth kiss, she had Astra moaning. The slip didn’t cause either of them pause. In fact, Astra was too preoccupied to notice.

Alex felt far too awake to sleep now. She had one of the most powerful military figures in the galaxy at her mercy. Why stop now when she was clearly two steps ahead of the general?

They made out in awkward fashion as most newlyweds do. There was hesitation in Astra’s movements – a hand faltering in Alex’s hair, teeth grinding but not biting, a gasp being stifled before it could develop into a groan. And yet hesitation did not always mean reluctance. A war was raging within Astra. Alex had to wonder if she had ever slept with a human before. The challenge to restrain every instinct was evident.

Astra’s breath steamed against Alex’s cheek as she tempered her grip on a fist full of hair. It had been clear from the beginning that Astra took Alex’s comfort seriously. The offer to dispense with certain obligations had been put on the table. At the moment, however, the thought of stopping Astra’s hands from pulling her into her lap made Alex want to scream.

Still locked into these infuriatingly timid kisses, Alex deftly undid the knot of Astra’s hair. She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, tongue working around her own moan as damp curls tumbled into her hands.

Astra broke their kiss. She drew back, the cool light bringing out her aroused state. Her eyes searching frantically for a sign that she had overstepped. Although she meant well, there was no logic in checking for injury through eye contact alone. Kryptonians were known for their superior vision and ability to pick up the feeblest sounds. Instead of scanning Alex for broken bones, she gaged Alex’s willingness without ever leaving her eyes.

Alex felt her facial muscles straining back a pout. She was more than ready, but if her wife kept pausing every two seconds to check her pulse, they’d never get anywhere. She knew her duty now. She might not feel anything for Astra, but the woman was physically appealing. She could have married worse.

With hands still lost in a tangled mess of hair, Alex nodded.

Astra breathed out a long sigh before resuming their kiss. The nod seemed to eliminate any lingering doubts. From then on, she grew more confident in her touches. Before Alex knew it, lips strayed to her neck. Heat blossomed from the sucking pressure and rippled through Alex’s body. She clutched the back of Astra’s neck, unwilling to admit how nice those curls felt between her fingers. She _could_ admit to the power she had over Astra. With a firm grip on that hair, Alex could thrust her away or pull her in or… or… or... The possibilities went straight to her head in an intoxicating mix of lust and power.

The kisses on her neck became longer, wetter and… Daaamn, Alex thought. What is she doing to me?

Astra surfaced with a kiss to Alex’s jaw. “What perfume is this?” she asked, drawing back to reveal the wonder on her face.

“You wouldn’t know it,” Alex mustered around pants. “It’s a brand made on Earth.”

The dark lashes of Astra’s lids fluttered. Whatever she thought of Alex’s response – that it wasn’t specific enough or that its tone barely reached the level of resounding in Astra’s – her expectations were not dismantled.

She returned to the perfumed softness. “It suits you.” The whisper raised the hairs of Alex’s skin. Astra kissed her pulse point, drew down a few centimeters to kiss below, grazed her lips along prominent bone, and inhaled. Her arms slipped around Alex’s waist. She slid forward, searching for more of that scent. Gravity did the rest as Alex’s back met the bed. There were no springs in the mattress to signal a shift in weight. She did not so much see Astra follow her as she did feel her. Two hands met the exposed skin of her stomach. Lips soft as flower petals touched her own before sliding down and sucking at Astra’s now favorite spot. Palms ran up her ribs, leaving behind a trail of nervous perspiration.

The rush of cold air sweeping up her front combined with the laving tongue on her neck drove Alex mad with shivers. The sensations were everywhere and stirred things she’s sure had been dormant for a while. Astra moved over her like water.

A stilted gasp sounded in her ears. Who it came from Alex didn’t know. She seized Astra’s hands and guided them to her breasts. She bit hard into her cheek and bucked her hips and when that wasn’t enough she hooked her leg around Astra’s. The message was received in a grinding motion of Astra’s hips. She consumed Alex’s sigh with a kiss. With Alex’s insistence, she squeezed her breasts and massaged the tips to hard peaks.

“Fuck.” Alex slammed her eyes shut and pushed up into clammy palms.

She snagged Astra’s bottom lip between her teeth and tugged her back into a heady kiss of her own. Their tongues met in a fully articulated display of passion. By now, her mind was firing blanks. She couldn’t keep track of how long they had been making out or if this fondling would navigate to bolder regions. She moaned at the precise pinch of fingers. She should have expected Astra to be an attentive lover. Nearly everything about her behavior forecasted patience and generosity. Astra would put her wife’s pleasure before her own. Her willingness to make Alex happy flooded from every pore of her body.

Slowly, sense creeped back into mind. Alex squirmed under the treatment; a squirm far removed from sexual frustration. It wasn’t that Astra was forceful or impolite. Something about the way she behaved didn’t feel right. Like Alex wasn’t the one whom she was thinking about. As if Astra was making love to her own private version of Alex Danvers. And how could Alex accept affection from someone she didn’t love in return? It felt dishonest.

And yet contradiction came in the heat pooling between her thighs. Alex didn’t hesitate around material barriers. She slipped her hand around Astra’s hip and under her waistband until she had flesh firmly within her grasp. Surprise burst from Astra’s mouth and Alex was quick to swallow it. She could barely hold back a grin. Catching this dignified general by surprise was the ego boost of the century.

Firm muscle flexed under her grip. If Alex didn’t know Astra worked out regularly, she did now. Even if Astra hadn’t been as leering at that gala as the other creeps, Alex had eyes and they had zeroed in on that purple dress like a laser beam.

Presently, she didn’t think twice about using that ass. She pulled Astra hard against her so they were rubbing against each other’s thighs. And _fuck_ if it didn’t sent shockwaves through Alex. And _fuck_ if that wanton sound didn’t come from _her_ partner. Screw skin-to-skin contact. She could rut against this creature all night.

Astra, however, couldn’t disagree more. Something (or someone with a wicked smirk and erotic aims) lit a fire under her. With shocking speed, she stripped both of them down to nothing. Alex barely had time to catch a glimpse before Astra covered her body with her own. They moaned together at the meeting of soft skin and aching intentions. Alex cupped each breast, imagining their form and firmness through touch while Astra returned to kissing her neck. She seemed positively obsessed with that perfume. It was laughable because it might be the cheapest thing Alex brought with her. And yet it drove Astra _crazy_.

Alex sighed and arched under the nibbling contact. While this might feel dishonest, who was she to say no to good sex? Astra clearly knew how to please a woman. She prized patience over a quick fuck. Alex had slept with women far less familiar and more amorous than Astra. She’d once shared a one-night stand with someone who only gave her first name. Why make a big deal out of this? Astra was her wife after all, and Alex had engaged in sexual relations for a lot less.

Just enjoy it, she told herself. Stop worrying about things that are out of your control.

It soon became evident that someone would have to yield. Alex couldn’t quite muster up the disappointment over Astra taking the lead. She was a good kisser, her hands didn’t fumble, and she knew where to put those hands and how to go about it. Considering the disparity between their physiologies, Astra never once overreached or misjudged her own strength. Alex didn’t know where her earlier bout of nervousness came from. This was no time to be shy.

Alex couldn’t help being critical. This was the woman she was going to be spending the foreseeable future with. She had no plans to remain celibate. Her life with Astra might bode well if they started on a good foot. Judging by the frequency of encouragement falling from their lips, there was every chance of that.

Soon, frustration crinkled Alex’s forehead. What Astra probably deemed exploring, Alex defined as teasing. The brushing of fingertips against her sex was maddening. If Alex wanted to be put out of her misery, she’d damn well better have Astra inside her when it happened. After all the anticipation, the night had better end on a high note.

After a good deal of _teasing_ , Astra entered her with two slick fingers and began stroking at an attentive pace. Alex could feel the pressure building deep in her belly and she urged Astra on by clawing her lower back. Astra yielded to the pain as much for her own benefit. Her thighs parted to indulge against Alex’s thigh. She coasted her sex back and forth, smearing cum in a long stretch Alex might not be able to see but could definitely approve of by the trace of heat.

They moaned in sync and kept up a pace that made the bed quake. Astra pulled out only for the heel of her hand to bump against Alex’s clit. Colorful expletives flew from her open mouth. Another thrust, another not-so-incidental brush. It was just so much, so fast. Astra’s hand matched the pace of her hips as they moved forward and back along Alex’s thigh. For the first time in a long time, pleasure had heat and sound. Color and intensity exploded behind her eyelids.

“ _God_.” Alex slammed her lids tighter in the hopes of embracing the feeling before it erupted.

“Oh, Alex.” The strength to make eye contact escaped Astra. She could barely coordinate the jerk of her hips. “You feel wonderful. I…”

A hard moan and a press of teeth to Alex’s cheekbone finished for her. Moisture streamed over Alex’s thigh yet the motions wouldn’t quit. They kept up their fervent efforts like nothing else mattered, not the soiled sheets or the divergences between species.

The rushed breathes cooled her brow only for a moment. Alex broke out into a sweat that locked her heart in a shrinking cage. God, she had never felt so completely overtaken. Astra was plundering her every breathe and whim and using it for her own pleasure. And Alex couldn’t give a damn because it felt so fucking good. She’d never been with anyone who submitted so thoughtlessly to their own lust. Despite the energy draining from her body, she felt like she could give and give endlessly.

The more things heated up, the less control Astra exercised. Whatever restraint exhibited before evaporated in the impassioned-filled air. The scent of their labors scared the cool atmosphere out of the room while the rising heat and tension pressed in on them from all sides.

The fact that Astra was building up to her second orgasm provoked frustration in Alex. She was much better than this. Exempting her first few experiences with women, Alex rarely allowed her partner to gain such an advantage.

Out of sheer anguish, Alex grabbed Astra’s backside and pulled hard enough for the next thrust of fingers to reach her aching depths. The touch of Astra was barely sufficient, but her walls reacted nevertheless. Her sex tightened in a greedy, desperate hope for more. All of a sudden, a string of thoughts stole Alex’s attention. Thoughts of life, love, ecstasy, and dwindling expectations. They were like a passing train flying into a fiery red horizon. And it was impossible to look away.

She orgasmed with a defeated, borderline pathetic, mewl. Her back didn’t even arch with her body as it gave its last rise and fall. While the finish felt completely contemptible to Alex, it brought a wealth of satisfaction to the force on top of her. With her free hand clutching the pillow behind Alex, Astra seemed to feed off of the energy leaching from Alex. She continued pumping her fingers and threatening to bleed feathers from the pillow. It wasn’t long before Astra came wildly against Alex’s thigh. She threw her head back in a messy, half-coherent cry of Kryptonese. Brown hair fell over her shoulders in riotous threads and a white lock lay in content over her breast. The changes in her body what with the flushed skin and jumping muscles were on such glowing display, Alex had to blink twice to grasp the significance.

_My wife is absolutely, god awfully beautiful._

The infinitesimal brain cells of Alex’s brain whizzed around like downy dandelion seeds in a spring breeze. Soft and seemingly innocent as they might be, she shook the thoughts away. Astra still knelt over her, panting deeply and head lolling as she soaked up the vestiges of her orgasm. It looked like Astra’s heart was going to vault out of her very chest.

The exertion finally won out. Astra collapsed against Alex and buried her face in the crook of her neck as she caught her breath. Sighs beat against Alex’s pulse which thumped like the traitor it was.

At the first signs of Astra falling asleep, Alex fell into a glum mood. The even breathes should have tempted her to sleep, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. Alex’s thoughts couldn’t stop racing. The distractions of a moment ago crept back with almost fiendish design. They endured a half hour later when the body atop her roused. Astra kissed her neck and her chin and her cheek. Shivers accompanied the trail of lips across her skin. Alex’s body squirmed against her will, yearning for a better finish. Before she had time to catch up, Astra was kissing her mouth and moving atop her as if they hadn’t stopped. Bearing down, Astra groaned softly and rocked into Alex.

It was difficult to tell if Astra was in love with her or just infatuated with her. Nevertheless, Alex accepted her like a wife should. Even if she started to feel something, its origins were strictly erotic. Astra’s fingers stirred base desires, not her heart. She hardly knew this woman, nor had she the slightest idea where she came from, what she believed in, or how she imagined their ambitions would converge. Time might not be enough to draw them any closer than the touch of banal flesh.

Throughout the night, Alex held on to the memory of that night under the stars, that moment of absolute trust she felt in Astra’s arms. She had never felt that with anyone else, not her parents, friends, or past lovers. It seemed naïve to embrace a dash of hope in a stranger, but it was all Alex had. Anything good Astra brought out of her had been in the light of a thousand suns. That radiance reflected back in her heart as it threatened to beat out of her chest. At the moment, it felt secure under Astra’s breath, but if Alex betrayed it, if she allowed someone to fumble it, she might cease to recognize herself.


	5. The Revolt

_Fourteen months later…_

A traitorous haze had befallen Alex. Her heart pounded like a hammer against her ribs. The fog slid over her skin with its long, electric fingers. Without god, everything was permitted. Nothing was prohibited. And it felt good – the gluttony, the pride, the envy. She didn’t believe in a god, but she did see the appeal in moaning their name.

“ _God_ …”

The blood thundering in her ears muffled its vulgar undertone. She had no sense of time or place. Her nerve endings were hyped up and playing a jig to staccato breaths. Lace slid against her bared breasts; their whorl-like pattern teasing her buds with coincidental contact. Alex clenched hard – fingers, toes, eyes, heart – while the expletives exploded inside her head with all the color of fireworks. How could she perceive her surroundings or the time of day when swept up by this storm? Alex didn’t think she’d ever experienced anything that made her forget herself so thoroughly.

Only two thoughts managed to survive the haze and accelerate around in her head at a speed barely comprehensible. The first told her she was about to come harder than she ever thought possible and the second told her it was all possible due to the woman under her skin, in her heart, and driving her to oblivion.

With the harsh sound of panting in her ears, Alex cracked open an eye to scope the place; a necessary precaution to take every few minutes. Rows of binders lined the shelves. Those shelves contained records of every military operation since the First Contact War between the Kryptonians and the Legarians. Established procedure sealed records for one hundred years until Krypton’s high council arranged them to be made public as they were at present.

The _Divivestnik’s_ archive was the dreariest place on the ship, and that was saying something. Only die-hard students of strategy and those looking for advancement found themselves head deep between bookends. The “library” as it was commonly called rarely drew traffic. It sufficed to say that most of the crew would rather lick their own boots than study for an exam. Often times crew frequented the media section to check out titles for movie night or simply for their own personal pleasure.

This particular corner of the library was stocked with cross-border conflicts. Binder upon binder filled the shelves in an array of dull green and gray. Neither of the section’s patrons, however, took note of their surroundings. Dust particles sprinkled the top of Alex’s head and stuck to her glistening cheeks. She barely noticed the musty smell much less the dust caking her clothes. The flesh of her back was developing a bruise from a cold metal rail running laterally behind her. Each thrust threatened to upset the balance of the shelf. Alex moaned into a shoulder. The sound earned her a one-two feat in the sharp thrust and twisting of fingers. She bit into the polyester to stifle a cry.

When the stars fizzled out of her vision, she blinked against the gloom. Nothing but untouched shelves greeted her. She sighed in relief and let her head fall back against the book spines with a _thump_.

While her body felt frail within the arm bracing her upright, it was not due to the mind-blowing orgasm she just experienced. She groaned softly in the absence of those artful fingers.

The threat of vertigo passed. Alex picked her head up off of a thickly bound tome and kissed the temple beaded over in perspiration. “We need to do this more often.”

“What? Fuck in shady corners? I could think of brighter lit places.” Hazel eyes slithered down Alex’s disheveled state. “This body was not meant for the dark.”

The suggestive tone stirred the already molten heat in Alex’s belly. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She loved how those eyes felt on her. They were probably basking in the half-clothed state those hands had rendered her to. Alex swallowed. God, did she feel roughed up in the best possible way.

Alex’s eyes fluttered open and fell two inches below her sight line to meet darkened appraisal. “Smooth talker,” she said, glaring.

Full, kiss-swollen lips inched forward. “Is that criticism?” One breath away from Alex’s lips, she held back, smile widening. “Because the last fifteen minutes tell me you enjoy this mouth of mine.”

Any skin tingling, pulse tripping reaction to the tease was impossible to overcome. This was just plain unfair. Alex sensed a heat consume her cheeks. “ _Talya_.”

“Yes, love?”

“ _Kiss me_.”

Talya kissed her. Its sizzling intensity could have hurled the frostiest person to the core of a main sequence star. Alex surfaced to catch her breath. She blinked slowly in awareness, the lingering threads of desire slipping out of reach.

“You have to go,” Alex said, unable to fight the disappointment from her voice, “don’t you?”

“Yes.” Talya offered similar displeasure in her wilting expression. “There is no rest for the weary. I must supervise an orbital strike team in…” she flicked her wrist to wake up her chronometer, “… twenty mikes.”

Constant immersion around military folk made Alex accustomed to their jargon. “Twenty minutes?” She stared in aghast. Her plummeting heart wanted things she couldn’t have and yet she was a slave to its selfish cravings. “Can’t you send someone?”

“No one covers for the lieutenant colonel,” came the steel-sharpened voice. Talya proceeded to tuck in her uniform and fasten the button on her trousers. “Or it’ll be my job.”

The passionate lover of a few seconds ago vanished. In its place stood Lieutenant Colonel Talya Fel-Du, tactical advisor and second-in-command to General In-Ze. The transformation rivaled that of a tinted visor slamming down.

Although it might have sounded like a brush off to anyone else, Alex wasn’t disappointed, and she felt no twinge of rejection. She liked the professionalism with which Talya approached her duties. She was a true leader with compassion and a firm voice. She wore her heart on her sleeve when it suited her, but often times she slipped.

The touch to Alex’s cheek brought her eyes to meet Talya. It awoke something in her she couldn’t describe. Talya could be so tender, so romantic. It was a wonder she never married.

Talya’s gaze didn’t stray to lascivious destinations. “I want to see you again.”

Alex smirked. “You always want to see me.” Cheek yielding to palm, she caressed Talya’s cheek in turn. Eager nerves rumbled beneath her still warm skin. She didn’t have to wonder if Talya felt the same. She swore the fine hairs responded to the sweep of her thumb. “When?”

“Tomorrow night. My quarters.”

“Twenty-two hundred,” Alex responded off the cuff. “After the bureaucratic nonsense but not before curfew.”

Talya grinned. “You know my schedule better than I do.”

“That’s because I make you my business.”

“Oh, that’s not kinky at all.”

“Stay and you’ll get a preview.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I know you can’t.” With their palms resting against each other’s cheeks, Alex leaned in with a sigh. Her forehead touched Talya’s, soft as a kiss hello and somber as a kiss goodbye. “Be safe.”

“I’m not leaving the ship.” Talya frowned around her amusement. “You do realize overseeing operations does not warrant field engagement?”

“Yeah, but I like showing concern. No matter what I feel, I don’t want to keep anything from you because this…” she touched Talya’s hand and stole inside, “… this is important to me.”

“Because if I don’t return with all parts intact, I’ll have hell to pay.”

“God,” Alex shook her head, chuckling, “you are so whipped.”

“Banish the thought,” Talya said and muffled her growl against Alex’s mouth.

The kiss had fury and passion as their lips moved thoughtlessly in tandem. At any moment, someone could stumble upon them, but the risk only poured more fuel into the kiss. Talya pinned Alex against the shelf not for the first time that afternoon. Her fingers teased up an arching spine. She roused shudders with a plunge of her tongue into Alex’s mouth. Trembling legs barely sufficed as support; Alex had no other choice but to grasp the short blonde hairs at Talya’s nape and submit to her hunger.

Reluctantly, Alex pushed her away. She hated this part. It was worse than cutting off her own limb (not that she experienced that). A tingling numbness spread where Talya’s hands and lips had been not seconds earlier. A ghost of happiness left behind in fingerprints. She watched as the pixie blonde strolled out.

“Later,” said Alex.

Talya threw an impish smile over her shoulder before vanishing around the bend.

In the chilly, dank shadows of their corner, Alex got dressed. Although she managed to pull herself together without anything visibly amiss, the evidence of what had transpired between them lingered. As she tugged up her pants, her slick underwear pressed against her groin. She fumbled with the zipper, cursing her insatiable drive. Get a grip, Danvers. She shook out her hands, trying to get the blood flowing to her fingertips

After ten minutes of hedging, Alex slipped out of the library. The hallways were sparsely populated. It being noon, most of the crew crammed into the cafeteria or gathered in the observation lounge. A sharply dressed man in the black colors of the Guard strode towards her. Alex didn’t recognize him but she returned his nod all the same. In passing, every nerve in her body seized in anticipation of a double take or that squinty look that told her they were scanning her physiological responses. The nameless soldier swept by without pause. She exhaled and walked on.

She never got used to it, the secrecy. Though her anxiety didn’t approach paranoia, she had a healthy concern for her wellbeing. The infidelity, the alibis, the premeditation before a rendezvous – this was new territory. And falling in love, Alex had never experienced this nor had she expected to.

Alex made the acquaintance of Astra’s second-in-command and fellow Kryptonian on the first day she arrived. In passing, there was not much time to commit names and faces to memory, but she remembered one of the officers standing out amongst the rest. The woman sporting short blonde hair had nodded. Alex smiled politely in return. It was nothing worth writing about in her private journal (not that she owned one), nor was it cause for a sudden thrill of anticipation (that came later). The memory flit away like an innocuous little bird. Until months later when Alex ran into her again.

As a lieutenant colonel, Talya had many responsibilities critical to the effectiveness of the general’s six battalions. It was pure coincidence that their paths crossed. A harmless mental lapse sent Alex down a secure hallway where she was apprehended by a pair of asshole security guards. Granted, it was a large ship and Jack’s betting pool didn’t provide a photo of their general’s new wife. They were still assholes.

Before the cuffs gave off that demure hum around her wrists, Talya intervened, claiming Alex to be a no security risk. She then offered to escort Alex out of the secure area. Later on, Alex was indignant to discover that Talya was following protocol and not, in fact, protecting Alex out of the goodness of her heart. They had a good laugh about it later on. A turbolift trip and a half mile walk later, Alex found herself reluctant to say goodbye. They had talked about mundane subjects. It wasn’t as if Alex didn’t get enough stimulation. She socialized plenty with Jack and a few of the technicians from Science Lab. But this was different. Talya’s company proved enjoyable while her contributions thought-provoking.

Talya Fel-Du was everything Astra was not. She was tender and kind, funny and engaging. Talya possessed a charisma that drew people together. She was always the first to break up a dispute between soldiers and arbitrate the matter until coming to a compromise that satisfied both parties. Moreover, Talya had proven her worth as an exceptional lover and a devoted friend.

They flirted for weeks. Talya pursued her with that swagger that first attracted Alex. It started with an apology coffee in light of the misunderstanding that put Alex’s in handcuffs. There was much laughter and some playful jesting that scratched the surface of innuendo. Then things led to dinner and drinks. It would have developed into friendship if she hadn’t been so charmed. There was something sincere and twinkling in Talya’s eyes. Perhaps it was Alex’s future. Astra never looked at her like that. Although it might seem like Alex’s attention-seeking drew her to Talya, in some ways her flirtation started because Astra drove her to it. Couples, especially married couples, should not have to buy each other’s love. One should be able to give the other space with the conviction that they would return.

What an idealistic formula and how ironic that it existed outside Alex’s marriage rather than in it. Astra suffocated her while Talya gave her license. When Alex was with Talya, she felt like she was rediscovering herself. No barriers or expectations. Nothing burdened her or guilt tripped her into offering compassion. Talya took nothing from her that Alex hadn’t willingly given.

During her first few months aboard the _Divivestnik_ , Alex had not been able to settle in to the confining ranks aboard the ship. Then she met Talya who banished every doubt, soothed every woe, and filled her days of bitter solitude with warmth and companionship. They had been seeing one another in secret for four months, a short period from which to be deducing words like love and future.

But they had already cemented the authenticity of their relationship which entailed both an emotional element as well as a physical one. They had made plans. When Talya’s tour ended, she would take Alex traveling. Their first stop being planet Heivan, an ecological paradise where they would go hiking in the shadow of a volcano, drink brightly colored cocktails, and love each other openly.

Alex could not imagine life on this dreary ship without her. As the days crawled by, the risk of being caught dwindled to insignificance. Alex rarely feared reprisal. All the insults in the galaxy were as harmless as paper airplanes skidding off the bubble surrounding her and her lover; a bubble reinforced by trust and affection no malevolence could penetrate.

How could she begin to feel guilt when Alex saw Talya in her future? Astra made her so unhappy. Alex had tried pleasing Astra in ways her autonomous, pre-wedded self would have scorned at, yet her efforts were still not enough. Astra made her feel so damn dependent on a physically and intellectually superior spouse it was as if her role had been reduced to 18th century trophy wife.

So, no. Guilt found no place in Alex’s mind or heart. If anyone had broken their vows it had been Astra. Alex would not play the virtuous wife. If someone split open her flesh, they would find no traces of domesticity. Instead, there would her blood rush fury red, her vocal cords quake, and the muscles tighten like a trigger finger on rebellion. There was no conceivable cure for a caged animal. No cure, that was, but freedom.

But the wait was torture. Alex knew she could not fully embrace her future until the ties between her and her wife were severed. Astra had to know those ties were fragile. Their marriage had no foundation, no basis for an enduring partnership. They never made plans or talked of starting a family. Alex didn’t even know if Astra _had_ family for if she possessed them, she invited none of the Ze clan to the wedding. She and Astra just… they made each other miserable. They were locked in a constant state of fabrication and disrepair. What reason was there to keep up appearances? Astra’s feelings were infantile, misguided at best. She didn’t love her any more than Alex loved her back.

Alex’s heels struck the glossy corridor floors with an amplified note of hostility. Thinking about Astra caused a thorn of distress to form in her side. In her travels to let off a bit of steam, she ended up at the observation lounge.

She came to a halt at the threshold. The place was nearly empty. A few patrons took up residence at the bar while a group of casually dressed men and a woman played a game of cards. A basket of appetizers occupied their table and, judging by the smell, they were of the spicy variety.

Alex scanned the lounge, hoping to spot a friendly face. Considering the current anxieties pressing in on her, she’d prefer not to make new acquaintances. She just wanted distracting conversation with someone familiar.

One such familiar face appeared in her crosshairs. In the corner of the lounge, a man in gray trousers, a blue buttoned shirt, and suspenders played a solo game of billiards. Smiling to herself, she decided to cash in on her luck.

“Has anyone told you it’s poor form to play pool alone?”

“I thought that only applied to drinking.” Jack raised his glass of beer in a toast before stealing a sip off its frothy surface. “Have you come to gloat already?”

She couldn’t stop the smile. With a superior raise of her brow, she folded her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t gloating come after victory?”

“You always struck me as someone who jumps the gun. Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

Alex was already selecting a cue stick from the bracket. “Don’t mind if I do.”

After a thorough chalking, she circled the table, surveying the battlefield even if it had all the standard features one found in those inhabiting bars on Earth. Apparently, Jack had this particular table installed within the first week of his captaincy. A ship with no honest sport like billiards was no ship at all, he said.

The balls were racked. As she watched Jack roll up his sleeves with care she asked, “What are we playing for?”

“Bragging rights, of course.” At her sardonic roll of the eyes, he pointed out, “Wouldn’t it be something to be able to say you defeated the captain of the greatest spaceship in the universe?”

“Sounds like a win-win for you. Alright, I’ll play.”

He smiled as if he knew she would. Alex never failed to turn down a challenge. It just wasn’t in her nature and yet, regardless of the stakes, Jack always had a knack for provoking a bit of doubt. The true measure of a friend was their ability to throw the other off their game. They’d played countless times, so, technically, no one was at risk of being hustled. They were evenly matched in skill, having kept a record of wins and losses over the course of Alex’s stay. Although for as competitive as they were, both she and Jack had games they would rather forget and often times losing due to their own inability to hold their liquor.

“Ladies first.” Jack stood opposite her, watching patiently albeit with a smug grin.

Settling her wrist on the spruce green felt, she kept the cue stable between thumb and forefinger and took aim. She pulled back on the cue and followed through in one fluid stroke. The off-white cue ball struck a striped yellow with a satisfying _crack_. Alex drew a smirk as her first ball dropped into the corner pocket.

In no uncertain terms, Alex wiped the floor with him. Beginner’s luck, he chided. She hadn’t warmed up and that counted as a soft win. The next match would be another story. And, indeed, Jack reigned victorious. In just two breaks he pocketed all his solids and sunk the 8-ball fair and square. This, apparently, was grounds for gloating. By his third win, Alex had ordered a pint in the hopes that the alcohol would numb her wounds.

As they played one match after the other, people around them came and went. The lounge never exceeded more than a dozen patrons, especially between the lunch and dinner hours.

Their private corner was just what Alex needed. They exchanged some friendly banter over the table. Jack regaled her of his adventures pre- _Divivestnik_ which could give Alexander the Great a run for his money. They talked about the latest scuttlebutt, crew disputes, and the absurdity of admirals giving orders lightyears away, and shared their love of trashy Earth soap operas.

Just as Alex was about to clinch her second victory, Jack threw her a curveball.

“If you won’t tell her, I will.”

Alex’s head snapped up. The tip of her cue skimmed off the ball with a dull _thwack_ and her stick scraped the side rail. She couldn’t care less that he employed such a dirty trick. It was the trick itself that straightened her upright. She griped her cue stick for support. Did he just…? The whimsy had been evident in his voice, though she detected none of the usual in his expression. The remaining three balls held his attention. His forehead bunched in concentration, but his mouth set in grim warning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that right?” he asked, setting up his shot. “Because I happened to be watching the security feed today and wouldn’t you know? Someone was getting frisky with a cute blonde in the archive room.” With a resounding crack, he sunk a blue ball into the side pocket. Still ignoring Alex’s gaze, he walked around the corner to line up the next. “In case you were wondering, yes, the _Divivestnik_ has its own surveillance. It’s like CCTV only the records are sent to the shrinks back home. We’re lab rats to scientists studying new ways to improve space travel. I have to say,” he gave a chuckle, “if more crew took their liaisons to the library, it would make the field of psychology a whole lot more interesting.”

Alex’s heart leapt into her throat. Blinking too profusely to appear undeterred, she swallowed hard and said, “Jack…”

“I switched it off and erased any trace of what you and the Lieutenant Colonel were up to.” He shot his second last ball in with ease before rising to meet Alex. He had a relaxed grip on his stick. He raised his brows. “Still want to play the denial card?”

“What you saw – whatever you saw – it’s not something I can explain. It’s not as simple as that.”

“I suppose not. Seeing as you would have to justify more than one instance. One rendezvous may be a fluke. You could wave that off like it never happened and we can all go on with our lives. But it wasn’t once.”

He wasn’t buying it and Alex couldn’t play dumb for the hell of it. Jack was a smart guy underneath the “old sport” cordiality. Cheekiness could turn nasty, and Alex wasn’t so sure she wanted to find out how far he would take it. His cold blue eyes proved he was dead set on proving her wrong.

Steeling herself, Alex asked, “How do you know this wasn’t the first time?”

“Please,” he huffed, prideful smile growing, “it’s my ship. I know every inch of this place and the boots that knock around it. I just wish I could say Talya’s a lucky woman.”

The raspy dejection made her eyes well. He was frowning at her like she just killed his favorite puppy. But not even a puppy could equate with what Jack was losing here. If circumstances were different, Alex would be gratified to know just how much he considered her a friend. Jack was friend to all no matter the species, hair color, creed, or sexual preference. Not only was he the ship’s captain, he was everyone’s confidante. Like a priest minus the vow of celibacy.

But Alex broke some rule of his. In the x number of lifetimes he had lived, Jack must have collected a trove of customs and codes. Alex knew she had broken the chief among them. She didn’t come to him about her affair. Trust found no home in their friendship. She treated him like a fool, and now he was punishing her for it.

Alex cleared the thick coating of guilt from her throat. “I don’t know what to say,” she said, dropping her gaze to the felt table. “I’m not sorry for sleeping with Talya, but if I had known you would react this way, I would have been straight with you. I’m sorry about that.”

Jack leaned in across from her, hands gripping the side rail. “Affairs don’t just impact the immediate parties. I’m not the only one you’re hurting. Or has it not entered your mind just how close to home these ripples affect?” He shook his head, fighting the ire scrambling up his vocal cords. They were in a public place, after all. “For god’s sake, Alex. You _live_ with her.”

“What Astra doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Even if she did find out…” The possibilities defused as quick as light escaped an abyss. Alex shrugged for lack of any legitimate insight. “She doesn’t care about me. Not in the way that matters. I don’t think she cares about anyone.”

“And that’s the only reason why you sleep soundly in someone else’s bed. It _might_ have something to do with Talya. Then again, you already have a wife. Someone who asked to marry you and you said ‘yes.’ You’re right about one thing: this affair is as much about Astra as anything else. But you’re wrong if you think she doesn’t feel strongly enough. There is an emotional cost to everything. Especially this.”

Alex’s grip around her cue stick tightened. “You say that like it’s my fault. I’ve tried so hard to make it work with Astra. You know I have. How many times have you seen me in here, getting shit faced while my wife is leading campaigns for god knows what reason. I mean, fuck, how did I get here?”

“It’s not rocket science,” said Jack, voice so even keel he could have been reciting common knowledge. “You’re not the first couple to marry for different reasons. You wanted to see the stars and she loves you.”

Alex swore it didn’t sting. Remembering those words rankled her like a festering blister. Astra rarely expressed her love, even when it might have mattered in the first months of their marriage. Anyone possessing a voice and selfish desires could say ‘I love you.’

Jack rose up, hands on his cue stick, face hauntingly expressionless. “So how do the stars look now?”

Alex worked her jaw. “Talya is not some fling. I care about her. And don’t assume that because I married Astra for selfish reasons, I’d betray her for another woman. I didn’t plan on falling for Talya. It’s not how it looks.”

“Isn’t that what this is? Because if there’s another word for affair other than betrayal…”

“If you’re not upset that I didn’t tell you, which you seem to be implying, then that’s great. I’m glad I haven’t ruined our friendship. But something is clearly bugging you. What is this really about, Jack?

“As I said, if you don’t fess up to Astra…”

“ _Astra_ ,” Alex grumbled and then a case of dark humor came over her. When all she got in reply was a cold, unwavering stare, her laughter died. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?”

“It’s not like you to cause a ruckus. You’re the one calming people down, not fanning the flames.” She narrowed her gaze. “You wouldn’t dare get in the middle of this. Astra may put up with you but she owes no allegiance to you. So why bother defending her? In her eyes, you’re scum human under her boot heel.”

Unceremoniously, he dropped his cue on the table and brought his hands to his hips. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he met her widened gaze with a stormy glare “Astra’s my girl. I trust her with my life. She may have broken some limbs and some hearts in the last one hundred years, but she deserves someone who treats her with respect. She deserves the truth.” He shook his head, fist raised and aiming for the table. At the last second, he thought better of it and just let his knuckles knock the surface. “Affairs are like war. There are casualties. Sometimes the people you least expect to get caught in the crossfire end up losing something. It’s rarely fair, but more often than not it’s unreasonably cruel. Astra doesn’t have to hear it from me. It’ll come out eventually and where will you be? With your hand down some girl’s pants or standing beside your wife?”

Fury burned Alex’s cheeks. Her knuckles turned white. She nearly broke her stick to splinters. “I don’t need a lecture from a guy who has more secrets than he can keep track of. I may not have known you for very long, but I am a good judge of people – the distant expressions, the way you fidget with your drink glass, the change in your voice. I know where all those tales come from. All those adventures with doctors and companions, secret societies operating outside the government? They’re to cover up the stories that need forgetting. It’s not what you say, Jack, but what you don’t say.” He didn’t argue. That was the surprising part. He just stood there and took it. Alex wished she wasn’t right about him. She wished she had read her friend wrong. Some part of her wanted him to be the best of their race, a glimpse at what humanity could evolve into if they shared a little more of themselves with the galaxy. And yet despite his extended life, he was as fallible as the rest of them.

His silent acknowledgement inspired a surge of sympathy. Instead of letting it show, she ground her teeth and drove home the root of it all. “Don’t you dare judge me when you’ve got who knows how many regrets from your past.” Movement out of the corner of her eye reminded her that the observation deck served to a public audience. She breathed in deeply, tempering her bitter thoughts. The cue stick felt brittle in her hand. It nearly slipped from the perspiration as she set it down on the table. “You may be the captain of this ship, but my marriage is not under your purview. Anything that goes on between me and Talya does not affect her work. She’s a professional. Whatever this ambush is…” she gestured to the table, a seemingly friendly game of billiards, and narrowed her gaze, “it’s over. If you want to threaten me again, at least have the decency of being direct from the get-go. I know where your loyalty lies now. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Turning on her heel, Alex marched out of the lounge, head held high. She felt no stares follow her out, not even Jack’s. Still, the heat lingered on the back of her neck, the ghostly foreboding of being caught prickling the skin and tempting her to sneak a peek. But she didn’t. She kept her eyes trained ahead, fists clenched, and strides smooth and articulate. No falter, not a single regret.

To her relief, the anger bristling inside felt lucid. There was nothing irrational about her reaction. Jack trapped her, deceived her, and then proceeded to accuse her out of self-righteousness. What else could she do but defend herself? She wasn’t about to lie there and take it.

Alex was offended by the harsh treatment and caught by surprise by Jack’s sudden hostility. In the time that they had exchanged quips and gotten drunk on Kryptonian ale, she’d never seen this side of him. He was always so casual and quick to laugh.

It did occur to her that he might make good on his threat. There was no telling how Astra would react to Alex’s infidelity. Any normal person would want revenge. A broken heart did not always act in accordance with logic. Love was messy and it could be unkind. But Astra wasn’t any normal person. She behaved in such ways that perturbed Alex. Gifts were plentiful but without meaning. Sex divested of intimacy. Contemplations as private as a safe. Smiles like smoke screens.

Sometimes it seemed like Astra truly had the capacity to care for someone, and other times, often times, she fooled herself into it to the point of forcing it. Astra had all the predictability of a starfighter with a broken stabilizer. Alex couldn’t be sure if her wife would put her own feelings aside and consider the bigger picture. How did this happen in the first place? Alex had to believe Astra would take her wife’s happiness into account. This affair wasn’t all about Talya, but it might certainly end with her, on a crystal water beach on Heivan like they promised one other. If what Alex had with her lover had the potential for lasting happiness and commitment then she wasn’t going to risk it by playing Jack’s game. She couldn’t allow him to goad her into making a thoughtless decision. Panic played tricks on the mind. She wouldn’t panic.

It hurt that he blindsided her like this – and in public. It wasn’t Jack’s place to interfere in matters that didn’t concern him, regardless of his loyalty to Astra. This was Alex’s business, and if it turned messy, she would be the one to clean it up. The responsibility rested on her shoulders, no one else’s. That was what Jack meant by it.

Alex didn’t know whether to trust him, but she did trust her instincts. Jack was bluffing.

* * *

When Alex entered her cabin, she wasn’t surprised to find Astra puttering in the kitchenette. Not two steps in, a wave of aromas overwhelmed Alex. For a split-second, the toasted tortillas and greasy cheese triggered a sense memory that took her back to National City street food. But instead of rusted steel and grumpy mumbles, she was met by sanitary cookware and a jovial chef.

“Hello.” Astra smiled over her shoulder. Dressed in casual slacks and a long sweater, she looked as relaxed as a kitten. She reached over her sizzling pan to pluck the cover off a stainless-steel pot. A cloud of steam billowed up as she stirred the concoction. “You’re just in time. I’m making quesadillas, arroz, and salsa de aguacate.”

Alex frowned. “Okay, I get quesadillas and, probably, guacamole, but what the hell is… arroz?”

“The English translation is ‘rice.’ Did you know that arroz is an important part of the Mexican diet?”

“I guess,” she replied vaguely. She lopped off her boots and took pains to place them next to a pair of shined leather ones. Her gaze leapt from the proper picture to the large alcove brimming in light and flavors. “Where I’m from we just call it rice.”

Since Alex moved in, the nook had been renovated to suit additional appliances. The cooling unit was upgraded. A few more cabinets were installed. The stove still brought Alex’s eyes to widen. With its chrome finish and neon blue indicator lights, it probably cost more than her previous apartment.

Eventually, the heavy scent of cheese beckoned her. It was the only reason why she drew so near to Astra, peeking over a shoulder at the gooey substance oozing out onto the pan. Despite being charred in some places, it looked as sinful as it smelled. Alex swallowed the excess saliva before it drooled out of her mouth. The steaming pot drew her eye. Inside, a heaping mound of rice, crushed tomatoes, garlic, and paprika married together to create a fragrance that called to her aching stomach.

Brow furrowed at the made-from-scratch rice, Alex asked, “Does this ship not buy instant?”

Astra responded with something between a hum and an amused chuckle.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing. I like it when you jest.” After patting dry her hand on a towel, she touched Alex’s cheek. Her eyes smiled and danced over the slightly stricken face. “You’ve been so distant lately but not tonight. I’ve learned that light sarcasm is the human way of showing contentment. I’m glad.”

The tiny hairs on Alex’s face did not react. They remained undisturbed under the stroking fingers, and when it left, they did not pine for that cold, clammy touch.

When Astra’s attention returned to the stove, Alex took a step back. Her eyes wandered the kitchenette, hardly seeing but sensing for the unattainable. The stupor wouldn’t recede on its own until she shook it off herself. She looked around: the metal cuffed round her finger… the photograph of two white robed figures framed next to a modest catalogue of certificates and awards… poetry on obedience, courage, and martial stratagems… the chronometer on the bookshelf counting down the seconds until twenty-two hundred tomorrow… the culinary scents harking back to mindless coexistence…

It was a Tuesday and every Tuesday night brought the rich smells of Earth back into Alex’s life. The tradition had started as an effort on Astra’s part to understand her wife’s people and their culture and culinary traditions. She researched thoroughly, sometimes hunting down recipes that dated back to the 17th century. Language was not an obstacle and neither was a Kryptonian’s sophisticated palate. With the help of Jack’s previous black market contacts (see: “ _Of-course-I-don’t-consort-with-those-three-fine-looking-gentlemen-anymore”_ previous), Astra got her hands on supposedly extinct spices.

And as if those efforts were not enough to exhaust her honest intentions, she made Fridays a teaching moment in Kryptonian cuisine. Between the spicy noodle stew and hot kidney hash, Alex’s stomach was going to turn into an acid sweating wasteland. She liked to think she’d go out one of two ways: caffeine overdose or the ever-popular painlessly passing away in her sleep. Dying by gastric ulcers sounded about as desirable as drowning.

Tuesday and Friday were not the only days Astra cooked. She spent more time in her kitchenette than anywhere else in their cabin. It went without saying that Alex did not like to cook anything that required an above rudimentary skillset. Due to her petulance around conversion measurements and her propensity for letting blood, Astra relegated her thin-skinned wife to an observational role unless advised otherwise.

There were many instances Astra offered lessons in Kryptonian spices and wines, but Alex just didn’t have the stomach for it. Not that Astra wasn’t a great cook – she had fantastic instincts for flavors and knew which wines matched with what meats. Truthfully, Alex sometimes despised the memory of Earth. The smell and taste of it, especially.

Since leaving her home planet, the last year had been nothing short of lackluster. Astra failed to mention how long these journeys between missions were and how few instances the _Divivestnik_ made port. So far, Alex had yet to apply to any PhD program nor was she able to take advantage of onboard resources. The ship was still a mystery to her in all its winding corridors. Likewise, the crew treated her like a mystery to be ignored.

And yet cohabitating with Astra did not rustle up feelings of longing for Earth. Anyone with half a brain could see that her living situation was ideal. In the past, the single life had not brought her a lover who appreciated her. The half-lit streets were not as safe as a ship full of obedient ducks in uniform. Besides, even the food and drink couldn’t come close to what the cafeteria served on the _Divivestnik_.

Despite Astra’s intentions, Alex had expressed that she didn’t want to be served Earth food. She’d rather just eat what everyone else around them ate (predominantly bland courses from Krypton). She had hoped Astra would stop trying so hard to please her, but apparently the message didn’t sink far enough into that thick skull of hers.

“How are your parents?”

The question pulled Alex from her thoughts. Shaking her head, she fixed her eyes on Astra. The steam from the rice put color into her cheeks. With the kind of single-mindedness she would have learned from a textbook, Astra flipped the stuffed quesadilla by way of a spatula. She grinned at the subsequent sizzle. With a trace of life in her cheeks and the softness of her smile she almost looked… at peace.

“Pardon?”

Astra shook the pan above the range and watched with near giddy delight as the tortilla scratched and sizzled in the butter. “Your parents,” she reiterated. “Have you spoken to them lately?”

“I talked to them a few weeks ago.” Alex shrugged. “They’re busy.”

“Last I heard from Jeremiah he was attending a conference in the Netherlands. A meeting of the minds as it were,” she remarked in a tone resembling affection. “And Eliza has been redecorating the apartment. I wonder how her new lamp looks next to her bookshelf.”

Alex fought a roll of her eyes. Sometimes it slipped her mind that Astra had any contact with her parents. She wondered where her motivations lied, whether Astra genuinely liked to cement ties between their families or her purpose lied somewhere in kissing ass. But whose? The wife who didn’t give a damn or the in-laws whom she never saw and whom were as inferior to her as water molecules.

“Oh, yeah?” Alex plucked up the recipe book lying on the counter, avoiding the fringed corners and perusing it out of boredom. Contrary to her conversational tone, she didn’t want to know what they got on about. Her father had all but sold her into servitude. One thing was evident: Astra was trying too hard. “I bet they appreciated the call.”

Astra nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, the hand holding the spatula lowered to rest on the counter as if she was suddenly unable to speak and tend to dinner simultaneously. “The day we married I told you that it was not my intention to abandon you from your family. I haven’t forgotten my promise to you.”

The wavering courage in her voice made Alex freeze. She did not expect their conversation to take a sentimental turn. After months, it should have occurred to her – Astra’s will to not back down. With sagging shoulders, Alex prepared herself for the subsequent awkwardness.

Astra took the twitching rise of Alex’s smile as permission to continue. “It could be a while before the _Divivestnik_ returns to the Sol system, but I plan to put in a word with Admiral Zhao.” Moving fluidly from the stove to her guacamole station, she swapped her spatula for a chef’s knife and began chopping an onion. “Perhaps within a month or two there will be a mission available in the sector.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble, Astra. Living on a ship of 2,000 has a tendency to put my importance in perspective. I’m about as insignificant as a space flea.”

“It’s no trouble. And you are not insignificant.” No sooner had the knife twanged to the counter than Astra swept Alex in a hug. She was gentle to the point of coddling. “You are the wife of a general. If your Earth histories are as valid as I have confirmed them to be, that is a powerful position indeed. I love you very much. Until there is no life left in me, you will have anything you desire. You have but to ask.”

Within the hug, Alex couldn’t quite describe the feeling spreading in her chest. Astra gave her affections freely, usually without warning or premeditation. Most often, these hugs did not let up until Alex reciprocated; as if Astra needed the reminder that their marriage was a joint effort founded on free will and mutual respect. There was still a trace of timidity in Astra’s hitched breaths, the flexing muscles of her arms as they held Alex. Yet of the two of them, Astra was more likely to initiate contact.

After a year of marriage, Alex still didn’t know how to react. She settled for rubbing Astra’s back and a “thanks.”

Finally, Astra let her go with a gentle squeeze to her shoulders. She returned to her preparations. Chopped onion tumbled into a bowl of avocado, tomato, jalapeño, garlic, lime juice, and cilantro. If one wondered how these ingredients came to find themselves on a military carrier in the Kinto Arm region, they had but to ask its general. Alex would suffer to think anyone would call her wife’s efforts romantic. Contrary to popular knowledge, General In-Ze had a secret passion for cooking, so whatever was going on here was purely self-indulgent.

“I stopped by Science Lab today,” said Astra. The back of her fork scrapped along the sides of the bowl, mashing the avocado and fixings together to make perfectly textured guacamole. “I had a break and I was hoping we could take a walk, but you were not there.”

The sound of metal scratching ceramic sounded hollow in Alex’s ears. Her entire body seized in panic. “Oh, um… yeah.” Her tongue lumbered around the desert of her mouth. She cleared her throat and touched the heat gathering at the back of her neck. “I felt kind of wired today. I swear those lab techs are trying to kill me with over-caffeinated coffee. It’s a wonder how that stuff doesn’t make you Kryptonians talk supersonic. Anyway, after my third cup I went to the weight room to burn off some energy.”

“You must be sore.” Astra’s back remained to Alex. The fork continued its mashing. _Scrape-mash. Scrape-mash._ “You should drink plenty of water tonight. It will help flush the toxins from your body and prevent dehydration.”

_Scrape-mash. Scrape-mash._

“Mm-hm. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“I’m glad you are able to spend some time around people with similar interests. The lab technicians tell me you have a gift for identifying microscopic abnormalities. If pathology is a course of study you wish to pursue, I can put you in touch with a contact of mine. She is a gifted physician who is currently studying infectious diseases in combat zones. If it –“

“That’s great,” Alex ground out. _Scrape-mash. Scrape-mash._ The benevolence choking the air made her sick. “But you really don’t have to do that. The techs in Science Lab have been more than accommodating.

Turning around, Astra revealed a wilted expression. “I’m… I am sorry that lodging on the ship has not been as you expected. That’s my fault. Perhaps if I was around more… I could cut back on my hours and we could spend more time together… I might be able to take off tomorrow night so –“

“Astra, please.” Hastily and purely out of self-preservation, Alex took the floundering hand in a squeeze. “It’s fine. I can take care of myself.” Fingers laced slowly with hers. The back of her hand tingled to the brushing thumb. Before Alex could register the lump in her throat, she deftly slid aside and gave the stove her undivided attention. “Now let’s eat this feast before it burns.”

And they did. The quesadillas were stuffed full of warm, melty goodness and contained the perfect ratio of cheese to peppers and chicken. The guacamole was fresh and the heat balanced well with the salt sprinkled chips (served hot from the oven). The rice was seasoned perfectly, the tomatoes bursting with flavor. After one bite, Alex understood why rice was valued so highly in the Mexican diet. If it came like this, she too could live on the stuff.

For all of the animosity clogging Alex’s pores, she did have a soft spot for Astra’s cooking. Even humans could behave themselves around the superiority of Kryptonians. Certainly, Alex had a moral bone in her body and occasionally felt the need to return the favor. The food had been delicious only because Astra took the entire afternoon off to research every angle of preparation, application, and presentation.

But in no galaxy, this one or Sol, did she expect to be paying between the sheets for services rendered. She rarely found herself stuck in this situation, if she could help it. Since their first tumble in bed, they continued to be intimate with one another. As far as Alex was aware, they had a normal sex life (exempting the fact that Alex was eating out at a different restaurant).

Yet the question remained: what had led from a quiet meal to sex? It couldn’t be the soft moans over guacamole. Astra wasn’t that desperate. It couldn’t be the pseudo cuddle they shared. After dinner, they had gathered on the sofa to watch a movie. Alex couldn’t remember how it ended because she spent most of it trying to ignore the longing looks and hand grazes. Astra was nothing if not persistent.

Now as they lay intertwined, Alex could not stop thinking about how happy she had been just a few hours ago. How could she be here in the arms of someone she hated when all she wanted was Talya’s lips and to feel her skin against her own? What could Talya be thinking in this moment, knowing her lover was being screwed by someone else? From the whispered directives to the nips on her collarbone, these labors were not made for her body. Alex needed someone more attuned to her senses, someone who knew what she desired. Astra didn’t listen to her and she never heard her. How could Alex submit herself to this?

She knew all too well. She put up with it because there was a precedent for these “intimacies.” Astra had given her an out. The first night they agreed to sleep on it. The second night, Astra asked to kiss her and Alex acquiesced. She didn’t stop it. She allowed herself to hold onto a memory that would eventually burn out and collapse like a thousand dying stars.

Naturally, Alex could never have foreseen Talya and how quickly they had fallen for one another. They never planned on violating a sacred oath and breaking Guard protocol. Talya was loyal to Astra on the battlefield, but they shared nothing in the realm of friendship. In accordance to her timidity and professionalism, Astra did not make friends. She was emotionally detached from everyone save for her wife with whom she still reserved some faltering around. In effect, Alex and Talya were betraying someone they thought of as no more than their superior. No love lost where none began.

Rough breaths batted her cheek as Astra’s thigh pressed behind her thrusting hand. She had muscle and bone in places Talya did not. Her mouth was firmer, not made for soft kisses and tasteful indecencies. She tasted different. She moved differently. Astra’s gestures were emulations of a love she didn’t understand, whereas Talya’s evoked dedication and certainty.

“You may come.” Astra’s breath produced a trickling heat against Alex’s neck. “I won’t hold you back.”

Alex shifted awkwardly beneath the weight. “I’m just…” She sighed for lack of any other response. “I’m just not in the mood. I’m sorry,” she said, fighting back a grimace at how bitter those words tasted.

The movement stopped and Astra withdrew. She pushed up and rolled onto her side. Instead of drying off or sucking clean, she tucked her hand between arm and torso. Always out of modesty, never for safe keeping.

“No,” said Astra. “I’m sorry. I should have realized.”

“I’m tired.” Alex rolled over, back facing the sudden quiet.

A long moment passed before a voice broke the silence. “May I hold you?”

Alex didn’t answer. She was too sickened. She closed her eyes and feigned sleep. The bed sagged, indicating that Astra had turned on her back. Alex breathed in relief and slipped into dreamless darkness.


	6. Hunger Pangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for light PTSD related to war. I use "light" because it's not graphic but erring on the side of caution here.

The days dragged on one minute at a time. Often, there was not much a sense of where than when. Alex walked the ghostly corridors by day, noon, and night. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her living quarters were barely occupied.

Alex spent the past four days living in a dream. How could she not? Everything turned foggy from the voices encouraging her spirits to her slow-motion surroundings. Her appetite had soured. She couldn’t get anything down before her stomach revolted.

Very few places attracted Alex. She sat on a stepping stool in the archive room, chin in her hand and dust clinging to her wet eyelashes like memories. She looked out the viewports at the same space station cloaked in silence. She was a mute staring into a void. Not even Jack could shake her out of the stupor. No matter how many times she blinked, that space station still reflected back in all its gray homogeneity.

A cruel image, really, considering what was transpiring onboard. A week ago, the _Divivestnik_ received a distress call. Mercenaries had infiltrated a research station in the Delta Quadrant and overran the place. A group of colonists managed to escape the rampage long enough to send a signal for help.

As per United Planetary League policy, the Guard had an obligation to answer any calls for assistance. Because the space station was located just a few lightyears away, Admiral Zhao tasked the _Divivestnik_ to respond. His orders were simple: subdue the mercenaries and lend medical aid to the wounded.

With ruthless speed and efficiency, Astra mobilized a unit and led them in the first wave. Lieutenant Colonel Talya Fel-Du and her strike team followed as reinforcements. The moment their shuttles docked with the space station, all hell broke loose. Those first hours were the most nerve-wracking hours Alex had ever experienced. Jack was good enough to give her access to the main bridge. Hovering over the comms panel, Alex hadn’t been able to make out the chatter. No one, not even the senior communications officer could discern the cries of their fellow crewmembers from those of the mercenaries.

It had been four days. Incoming transmissions consisted of explosions, laser fire, and orders more often than not interspersed with static and shouting. It was chaos. Occasionally, they received reports from a razor-edged voice belonging to General In-Ze. There had been casualties. Over the cacophony of grenade eruptions and screams, Astra estimated a loss of twenty. Alex and those listening in could hear the crack in her voice. Unable to attribute it to a faulty radio, each and every one of them were shaken to their bones.

The bad news kept coming. Their forces had the mercenaries in retreat, but hostages had been taken. With ammo and food rations running low, the next few hours would be critical. The general and her second-in-command would lend themselves to delicate strategy in order to separate the colonists from their captors. Every second counted. Before Astra could apprise Jack of their extraction point, they lost the signal. According to the comms officer, the mercenaries were jamming their transmissions. Astra, Talya, and their legionnaires were on their own.

The main bridge erupted into nervous chatter and movement. Jack threw himself into the role of leader, commanding everyone into their seats and to keep their cool. While the communications officer set his nose to the grindstone in restoring transmissions, the others mapped out several possible routes for extraction.

The bridge no longer served as a source of comfort. Alex left the restlessness behind without a word. She returned to her quarters. The stale smell of idleness clogged the air. Everything was as she had left it. No pillow out of place. No Astra.

Against her better judgement, Alex allowed herself a sigh of reprieve. She shouldn’t be so quick to rejoice at her wife’s absence. Whatever fate befell Astra, Talya was sure to follow. They were fighting the same battle. It boded well for Astra to get out alive. Alex should pray for her safe return, but all her prayers had been exhausted on someone else, someone she couldn’t bear to live without.

Alex shook her head. Don’t get ahead of yourself, she thought. Talya was a trained officer. She had fought worse enemies than a horde of mercenaries. She would come back to her. They had made plans together. Alex promised that if one day Talya found herself incapable of returning, there would be hell to pay. If her lover gave her any reason to doubt, she’d break both her arms. Though it had been said in jest, the current situation had lasted so long, and with all the bad news piling up, Alex was seriously considering bodily harm.

Sitting at her personal computer, Alex opened an active file. Any distraction would serve. Surfing the galactic net happened to be the only thing readily available at the moment. She brought up a search engine so that both panes were side-by-side. Her fingers danced over the slanted touch screen, typing keywords and enlarging images for her eyes to appreciate.

Months ago, Alex might have laughed hysterically if she had known the kinds of things she would be studying. Kryptonians to be specific. While Alex had possessed a neutral opinion of the race before, now she had a growing curiosity towards them. What’s more, she had a particular stake in it.

The research had been habitual since her affair. Ironic, really, that it was Talya and not her wife that spurred Alex’s interest in Kryptonian culture. It started as a means of passing the time. There was not much to occupy her day with when Astra was off doing whatever she did, so Alex started to do some research on Kryptonian history and culture. The lounge on crew deck happened to be the ideal place to sit back for some light research; usually accompanied by a coffee and some snacks. Generally, no one bothered her. They might have passed by and caught their native syllables being mouthed quietly under her breath or the copious notes on the First Contact War, but they didn’t say anything nor did they seem impressed by this human’s efforts to articulate a complex language. Alex, however, grew pleasantly surprised by what she found.

Across the galaxy, Kryptonians were revered for their wisdom and rich sensibilities. They traveled as diplomats, artists, scientists, and many as peace keepers. In fact, the Guard enlisted close to sixty percent of the population. Considering the three hundred-year Kryptonian lifespan, giving fifty years in service to others seemed like a small price to pay. And yet very few believed that a career in the military was a sacrifice. It was seen as a great honor to have a family member enlisted in the Guard.

Due to their extended lifespan, marital unions were frequent. A Kryptonian would choose their spouse from a particular family on any planet of their choosing. The higher the class they married into, the more revered amongst that particular civilization. It was not unheard of to marry for love. Some believed it was the only reason why a Kryptonian would tie themselves to the weakness of humanity.

It was a great sign of respect to be chosen, especially on Earth. Marriage to a Kryptonian brought recognition and opportunity. Earth was not as wealthy as it used to be, so families took care to preposition their children to the revered Kryptonians. Once married, the family received a dowry that lasted through their retirement.

Alex sank back in her chair. She knew about these so-called ‘benefits’ before Astra proposed. Her parents were over the moon upon hearing the news of the engagement. Their daughter, marry a Kryptonian? And of noble birth? Her parents had smiled and hugged her tight enough to provoke a whimper. They might want the best future for her, but Alex knew they couldn’t deny their relief. Jeremiah would no longer have to solicit research funding from contemptuous bureaucrats, and Eliza could have the home she always dreamed of. By any means, Astra wouldn’t make them rich, but she would certainly make sure they were looked after.

Alex’s attention left the computer screen for the bedroom. Her chair’s wheels gave a squeak in the turn. From her seat, she could make out the queen size bed with its pleated duvet. The undented pillows gave the impression of not having been occupied in some time. Above hung the beautiful sunburst painting.

The canvas was the only thing about these quarters that intrigued Alex. Unfortunately, the painting was the only thing that made her feel warm. The ring on Alex’s finger pressed coldly against her skin. She couldn’t stop fingering it. Though Kryptonians had no use for trinkets to symbolize the vows between two people, Astra insisted upon the human tradition as a means to, in her words, “honor the traditions of my wife’s people.” How generous of her.

She wondered how many of these gleaming gestures Astra had bought for her wives. Alex wasn’t stupid. She knew Astra needed companionship. The Kryptonian was nearing one hundred and fifty years of age; no self-respecting person of such maturity turned down sexual advances any more than they would decline long-term relations.

Astra might not seem like the sociable type, but even introverts experienced loneliness. She seemed to like being married, judging by her culinary efforts, the scheduled ‘down time’ after dinner, and frequent reminders that Alex was the wife of a general. Astra seemed to have a very certain outlook on marriage; it almost resembled the perfect 1950’s American home: Astra welcoming her wife back from work with an elaborate dinner, pleasantries over the new dish of the night, movie or reading on the sofa, shower, and the blandest sex if Alex thought it would curb any suspicions. For fuck's sake, even Astra’s proposal had sounded rehearsed. Their life was so routine and by the numbers Admiral Zhao would have approved.

But why did Astra have to choose her? Alex no more liked being Astra’s wife than she did the thought of being Wife Number Four (or whichever number Astra was on).

Thoughts of companionship and home life inevitably led to aspirations of her future.

Talya. Sweet, passionate, kind Talya. With her strong hands and small waist. Her great blue eyes and boisterous laugh. Her perfect blonde hair clipped at just the right length for Alex to finger through. Talya, the soldier who would die for her comrades. The woman who could take a joke at her own expense but not before slapping them upside the head as recompense. The friend, the lover, Alex’s deepest, most aching secret.

Alex propped her elbows on the desk to cradled her face in her hands. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as the sound of laser fire exploded inside her skull. Fatigue, lightheadedness, general weakness – these were the symptoms that had been wracking her for the past four days. And they were physical. They did not speak to the thousand and one possibilities stacking up like a house of cards. Each one was precarious and painted in vivid detail. In one, blistering red color streaked pale blonde hair; soft, tender lips hung open mid-scream. In another, a pomegranate-sized hole ruptured open that wholesome, pink flesh. A dizzying array of images flew by. All of them featured an immobile half-smile and charred limbs, unspoken goodbyes and an unimaginable amount of blood.

Alex’s imagination entertained such horrible fates. She had no idea which one Talya was undergoing at any moment because her unit was currently fighting behind enemy lines and out of radio contact.

It was at the thought of starvation that a bleeping sound snapped Alex out of it. Looking around in a daze, she spotted her comms device jittering atop the coffee table. With perspiring fingers, she grabbed it instantly.

“Hello?”

“Alex, it’s Jack. I… have some news.”

The foreboding pause resounded like a gunshot. Alex swallowed hard, arm clutching around her waist.

“Alex?”

“Yeah.” She winced at the sudden squeak in her voice. “I’m here.”

“It’s okay. They’re… both okay. We took heavy casualties. Medical Bay is filled to capacity with wounded. It’s going to take a while before Astra is done here. As commanding officer of the mission, it’s her duty to make arrangements.”

Relief set in at once. Alex pitched forward to grab the back of the sofa for stability. “I know.” She nodded vaguely and closed her eyes for what felt like the first time in four agonizing days. “And the lieutenant colonel?”

There was a pause on the other end. Chatter from the bridge echoed in the background. “… She’s tied up at the moment.” Jack cleared his throat. The unsticking of fingers from the receiver indicated that he might be looking over his shoulder. “It’s probably best that you wait for Astra in your cabin.”

The sharp tone running through his advice was unmistakable. That didn’t mean Alex would take it. “I appreciate the suggestion, but –“

“She’ll be expecting you to be there. To welcome her home.”

Alex grit her teeth. The thought of waiting one more second in her quarters when Talya was back on the ship twisted her stomach. She dropped her gaze and searched the carpet for an out. There was no escape. This was the choice she had made and now she had to live with it. “Thanks for the update, Jack.” She ended the call with a stab of her thumb.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered to no one. Alex ran her hands through her hair, preparing for the dam to break. “ _Fuck_.” Her voice cracked and she inhaled sharply over the bubbling emotions. Her annoyance with Jack was like kerosene on her resentment of Astra. Her skull throbbed in time with her aching heart. She was barely keeping it together.

The floor continued to spin beneath her. Alex wobbled over to the sofa where she collapsed in a sobbing heap. Tears of joy? Tears of dismay? She couldn’t discern their substance. All she knew was that they fell in spades.

* * *

Alex didn’t know when she nodded off, but the sound of the door hissing open jerked her awake. She blinked, bleary-eyed, and clutching madly to her phone. It hadn’t gone off since Jack’s call. The trill and subsequent vibration of an incoming message would have wakened her.

Instead of receiving the time and place of a rendezvous, she got something else entirely.

“Astra?” The knuckles of Alex’s hands scrubbed her eyes. She cleared her throat of sleep. It must have been late. A spike of shame lanced through her at having slept through the waiting period. “You’re back.” Alex frowned around the words, uncertain of what else to say.

Mouth slightly parted, Astra stood there dumbstruck. Her appearance gave nothing to suggest where she had been or what hell she had experienced. Glossy brown hair hung in loose curls around her vacant expression. Her cheeks, though pallid, were clean as if just scrubbed clean of blood and brimstone. Physically, she appeared fresh and unblemished. But emotionally? Alex got nothing. Something about the blank look in her wife’s eyes sent shivers up her spine.

Alex hung on the silence for as long as she could. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Astra complied wordlessly. Beside Alex, she remained as silent as the grave. Her hands lay open on her lap. She studied them. For what, Alex didn’t know. The high collar of her uniform bit into her neck. The black polyester was smooth as velvet; unlike her wrinkled forehead.

Whatever torment Astra had faced on that space station remained beneath her skin, prickling like a thorn to escape. Far be it from the general to show it. Even Alex wasn’t so sure she wanted to find out what lay beyond the millions of layers, what transgressions and sacrifices Astra had committed in the line of duty. Yet the longer she held back, the harder those furrows pinched her forehead. The ever-present nerve at her temple pulsed behind her crippling mask. Alex knew if those secrets didn’t find an outlet, Astra would burst.

Alex winced in anticipation before asking tentatively, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Astra shook her head. It could have passed for refusal if her entire body hadn’t joined in. Her lips were pinned shut and the frown lines carved around grim denial as she shut herself off from Alex with eyes squeezed shut. She inhaled her burden and at its height, when her lungs could take no more, she threw herself forward, pressing her lips to Alex’s. It was thoughtless, maddening, and angst-fueled, but it was all Astra could express at the moment.

The lack of any warning left Alex dumbfounded. She didn’t react for fear of upsetting Astra. The advances lacked reproach, and they fell like aimlessly raindrops – on her slack mouth, her dimpled chin, the mortified cheeks, and reddening ears… Astra smothered her in a torrent of kisses.

There was a standard procedure in situations like this. When Astra and her strike teams returned from being mobilized to a conflict, they were usually in high spirits. Their victories left them exhausted but with a hunger for all the pleasures a safe haven had to offer. Out of obligation, Alex would wait for Astra in their quarters. As per usual, Astra would return in her usual diffidence. As if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. As if she had simply gone out for groceries.

Alex knew her duty, but this time proved different. Unlike the other occasions Astra went away, she had never been gone this long. The four-day absence was evident the moment Astra’s mouth fastened on Alex. Every close shave turned to a tongue flicking against the sharp canines of Alex’s teeth. An explosion became a puff of hot air in Alex’s ear. An hour stolen away from home provoked a sharp nip to her jaw.

Astra filled the spaces with searing kisses. She cupped Alex’s cheek to press their faces together so she could better commune with her wife’s ache. Unbeknownst to Astra, Alex had been in a world of longing. Bad omens had roamed day and night, creeping on her heels like shadows. They banished her appetite, drained her hope, and, at times, reduced her to tears. Of course Alex suffered from a yearning heart. She was just yearning for someone else.

Suddenly, Astra withdrew. Round eyes met Alex while a rattling, watery breath rushed out. Shock was written across her face before giving way to guilt. “You waited up for me,” she said, voice cracking in disuse. Her eyes trailed over the flat hair, the rumpled sweater, and the comms device within reach. She glanced back up, head tilted and so, so indulgent. “You did not have to wait for me.”

Alex shrugged, nibbling her lip. She had never felt so unsure of herself. She usually held her own in their marriage to the point of being cavalier. Now, hesitation tightened her throat. This felt like baffling territory. This felt like a line that _must_ be crossed and at the same time was _not_ to be crossed. A point of no return. And yet there Alex sat, suspended between two fields capable of tugging her very soul apart.

It was foolish, really. She should have foreseen what Astra needed, what all soldiers who came home from war needed. When she least expected it, the answer hit her square in the chest.

A cramp of discomfort overcame Alex. She shot up from the sofa. “I, um…” Her hands floundered for somewhere to be – her shirt collar, the hem of her sweater, her thighs, her pockets, no pockets, where were her pockets? Goddamn it. She finally decided to raise her hands up in pleading. “Astra –“

But Astra misunderstood; the message lost in translation as it were. Without a word, she accepted by taking Alex in her arms and holding her gently. Brown hair smelled of tropical sand, her cheek smooth as a beach pebble. Every cell in Alex felt driven to escape this maddening prison. Acid tears filled her eyes. Her aching jaw clenched, bone on bone, to send painful vibrations through her body. She wanted out. So badly. But the claws Alex liked to think she had had retracted of their own accord. Astra was breathing affections into her hair and disengaging long enough to bury long, soulful kisses into the palms of her hands.

The advances made Alex ill at ease. She was supposed to meet Talya when she returned with the other soldiers. They were supposed to make up for the days without each other by making urgent, passionate love. Alex couldn’t remember missing anything with such fervor. She burned hot in want, unable to close her eyes without imagining Talya’s eyes, nose, lips, fingers, her very essence in the flesh. Instead of reuniting with an unsated dream, Alex was caught in the arms of a woman she despised.

“I am desperate for you,” Astra breathed. She peppered kisses to Alex’s forehead.

Alex had learned not to stiffen in response but it proved hard to manufacture eagerness. Astra was clutching her sweater with a face screwed in anguish. She trembled like a horse fighting the reins. Even after battle, the remnants of adrenaline pumped through her blood and made her skin feel like the surface of the sun. Her flesh did not show evidence of assault, but there must have been underlying trauma, memories unable to be scrubbed by time or therapy. Alex never thought about it. She never asked before, so why start now? Astra was far too proud to admit her limitations (be them physical or psychological), and Alex made it her priority not to give a damn. Deep in the recesses of her fucked up mind, she might have prayed that a stray plasma bolt would find its mark and leave her a widow. Judging by the intensity of the embrace locking Alex in place, she might never be free.

“Alex, please.” Her insistence came in a whimper, not a command. Astra had been right about one thing – a general’s wife possessed a power unlike any other. She clung to Alex’s waist, face buried in her neck and shambling around to drop a kiss worthy of such a dignified woman. < _Please_ …>

Muffled Kryptonese turned out to be her breaking point. “Okay.” Alex pressed Astra’s cheeks, holding her face in place before she spiraled out of orbit. “Okay,” she reiterated with a nod, but even a second attempt failed to afford her peace of mind.

She took Astra’s hand and led her to the bedroom. All the while every piece of clothing was stripped by her hand, she never once looked Astra in the eye. The sheer weight of guilt forced her gaze to the carpet. Guilt… whether it budded fourteen months back when she said “yes” at the courthouse or four days ago upon screaming “fuck yes” in someone else’s bed, the guilt was there. It festered and multiplied with every effort to make Astra’s body shudder. It didn’t lie and she couldn’t sweep it under the rug anymore.

Wives of generals were a resilient bunch. They had to be when their spouses were prime targets of the enemy. A general’s wife might be left behind in safety, but they had the most difficult job of anyone: to keep faith through thick and thin. In spite of the strongest adversary, the bleakest environments, and the most dismal odds, they were tasked to maintain optimism. And like any individual who loved their spouse, they welcomed their general home with open arms.

With a sigh, the mattress yielded to contrived passion. Alex treated it like a chemical reaction. She was a scientist and a lover, so she knew which elements provoked the right reaction. The linens were tissue paper in Astra’s grip. Her moans drifted into the air, making the atmosphere thick and honeyed. Alex spread twitching thighs further apart to abate Astra’s anxieties. Her tongue plunging inside before skipping across Astra’s clit and claiming her again. She repeated it like a dance, arm cradling her partner’s waist and hand locked with hers. Astra’s nails bit hard enough into the back of her hand to leave pale crescents. Strength like that didn’t come from noble origins. It was a plea for love - unending waves of it. Alex did what she could. Astra accepted every ounce of her struggle and orgasmed in record time. Alex’s ears shriveled to the sound of her name. Her lips never touched anything so bittersweet.

Alex knew her duty as a wife. All soldiers needed their release after battle, their sure thing in the arms of their beloved. She wedded a general, after all.

Astra lay winded and flushed. Crawling back up the aggrieved body, Alex dropped a kiss for good measure. Fingers fluttered up her ribs, brushed her breasts, and buried themselves in her untidy hair.

Seemingly drunk on post-coital bliss, Astra’s eyes fluttered closed as she laughed. <This feels better than the bedsheet.>

The light scratch of fingernails sent shivers across Alex’s skull. She bit back groan. <I would rather you owe me a new bedsheet than a hair transplant.>

The bedroom filled with laughter. It was a frightfully nice sound. No sooner had it lightened the mood than Astra blinked in puzzlement. <Wait…> Her hands slid down to Alex’s shoulders. “You’re speaking Kryptonese.”

Well, duh. A rascally smile spread across Alex’s mouth. She took pride in being able to turn her wife as dumb as a dishwasher. Astra may have the most strategic mind in the Kryptonian Guard, but even she had moments of complete doltishness.

Alex found it difficult to ignore the circling pressure those thumbs were working into her shoulders. She shrugged. “There are a few hundred Kryptonians around here. I… picked it up.”

“No one simply picks up the most complex language in UPL space.” The corner of Astra’s mouth turned up. “But you would.”

The compliment encompassed more affection than her caress. Alex bristled despite herself. It was a natural reaction, and it was a wonder how Astra hadn’t yet discerned her mood from her body language. Could it be that she didn’t want to believe in her wife’s indifference? Might she be so pitifully in love that she spun delusions for her own benefit? What if Astra knew? Had she been maintaining the illusion every waking second they spent together?

Before the questions grew meaningful roots, Alex banished them with a shake of her head. <No more talking,> she said and quickly muffled any chance of a reply.

Astra grasped the back of her neck, drinking raw determination from the kiss.

Just like that, one kiss turned to several while hands meandered and caressed. A growl stirred in Alex’s chest and only intensified by a squeeze to her breasts. She covered the hand with her own, squeezing in turn. She sucked on Astra’s gaping bottom lip, goading her to retaliation. Unbeknownst to Astra, Alex liked the rough scraping of teeth on her skin. She liked the feel of vengeance, be it fabricated or thoughtfully designed.

Astra took the bait by sinking her teeth in. A moan slipped forth. Fanatical heat pooled at the base of Alex’s spine. She couldn’t stop her body from shuddering. Their mouths connected over sighs, teeth clacking and letting substance for chain reaction. Chemistry, Alex thought. This was strictly science, nothing more. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. She shuddered under the fingers trailing down her spine. Oil and water don’t mix. Water is two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen. The back of Astra’s thumbnail flicked her nipple. Alex bit muffled an expletive against kiss-swollen lips. Humans are carbon-based lifeforms. Carbon is the fourth most abundant element in the universe. Astra’s hands and tongue and lips were everywhere; clawing… tugging… nipping… Two plus two makes four. Damn. That’s math not science.

A coppery tang laced Alex’s mouth. Astra soothed the sting with a touch of her tongue. As much as Alex got off on the pain, the soothing gesture sent shockwaves through her. She moaned, sliding deliciously against the firm muscle of Astra’s thigh. Astra intertwined their legs, the back of her foot drawing down a bare calf. If Alex was in her right mind, she’d think it affectionate. Instead, she took it as permission. There was no reason to prolong the inevitable.

Dispensing with formalities, Alex reached between their squirming bodies to meet the wealth of heat her mouth had released not long ago. Her fingers met swollen lips, slick for merely wanting her. She slid inside with one effortless motion. Astra broke the kiss in a gasp. Hand braced to the bed, Alex rose up to observe the emotions playing across Astra’s face. God, she was so expressive during sex. She looked halfway between lust and anguish. Alex worked her fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. Much to her enjoyment, this only served to frustrate Astra. The furrow between her brows bore on cute. Was that new? Or had Alex not been paying attention before?

It wasn’t long before slender thighs clamped around her wrist, immobilizing her so Astra could meet the furious pace she so desperately needed. Her efforts were in vain but boy did she give it her all. Astra’s entire body tensed – her abdominal muscles rippling under perspiring flesh, her toes curling, her fingers making divots in the linens. Expensive linens mind you.

It was difficult to rip her gaze from the undulations of Astra’s body. Even Alex could appreciate the ruthless efficiency in which her wife trained. She felt little regret in admiring Astra’s looks or the way she responded in bed. No one had to twist her arm to admit it.

Alex didn’t realize how turned on she was until Astra’s finger skidded through her folds. Raw instinct made her hips buck. She moaned and followed the feather light touch until Astra’s hand was cupping her sex. Quite thoughtlessly, Alex began grinding hard enough for Astra to get a clue.

She reacted on sheer hunger and nothing quite sated it like being loved. At the moment, it didn’t matter where that love came from. Astra was nothing if not thorough, fulfilling Alex’s needs as well as her own. She moved with all the fluidity of a tide, her body rising and falling in sync with Alex’s.

“I want more of you,” said Alex.

She couldn’t bear to open her eyes to gage the expression on Astra’s face. The smell of sex thickened to a fog capable of masking all logic and modesty. Whatever remained was left to swim in the haze and spin lustful designs, a need for shock and awe. She leaned back, hand braced behind her, and spread her legs to emphasize her request.

“ _More_ ,” she demanded with a roll of her hips.

No sooner had it left her mouth than she succumbed to a reply. Her breath caught when Astra added another finger. She arched back, groaning loudly, feeling her walls pull the force inside her. While she had learned to perfect certain positions, none of them had yet to be performed with her own wife. This was new, exciting, and quite wicked enough for Astra’s shock to transform into desire. Everyone had a deep, dark kink. It simply required a spark or a helping hand to discover.

Despite her unwillingness to rely on sight, Alex could hear the groan of approval and feel those curious fingers fluttering against her inner thigh, spreading them for the perfect view. A perfect “ _oh_ ” escaped the lips Astra must have been biting in restraint. Alex felt the tug on her fingers still working the swell of Astra’s sex as if the need for her alone undermined that of oxygen. She was so close; Alex could feel Astra’s orgasm building at the edge of her own fingertips.

They swam through the tide together, flesh sliding against flesh and fingers pulling provocative echoes. Their reach grew bolder, faster, maddening, until finally arriving at their breaking point. Alex shouldn’t have allowed herself to lose control. She shouldn’t have done a lot of things, beginning with taking Astra to bed. But she did. She fulfilled Astra’s needs with a mask of kindness. Underneath, her stomach soured and churned. Or was that her body preparing to come? It was hard to tell.

And yet something about the desperation in Astra moved Alex. Although she had never seen war, she did have a sense of how it worked. Jack had relegated the details down to their grim authenticity. Devoid of weapon, Kryptonians carried themselves quite well in a fight. There were occasions, however, that called for the boiling intensity of firearms. Martial arts were no match against blasters and cannons. Through her visits to the firing range, Alex knew the Kryptonians were well disciplined in armed combat. Their techniques married seamlessly to allow the use of hand-to-hand fighting and blasters. Pistols, shotguns, sniper rifles… whatever the weapon, they were designed to suit the specifications of each soldier. Every piece had at least one thing in common: it could deal damage.

When it came to war, Jack didn’t mince his words. There were no valiant battlefield speeches. Strip away the war cries, the incentives, the hero mentality, and all that remained came in the form of flesh and steel. Just the torn limbs of your comrades around you, the sound of clamorous death, and the smell of fear.

With that in mind, Alex could not imagine what Astra had felt or thought during her recent battle. She might be a veteran soldier, but who was to say she didn’t experience a tremor of anxiety? Had her trigger finger slipped? Had her mind blanked at the sight of the dark red pools glistening around the dead? The arm around Alex’s back crushed their bodies together. Had Astra seen her life flash before her eyes? Is that why she held her so close now?

That was when Alex tugged her up and into her lap. That was when she held Astra a little tighter, kissed her a little deeper, and fucked her so close to orgasm before throwing her into riotous bliss. It was by no means paradise or the bright, fertile meadows tending toward the likes of Elysium, but it was what Astra needed. It was seconds of indescribable release from all earthly association. To accept, to bask in the glow created by a spell of compassion.

A sob burst over Alex’s shoulder. Thighs trembled on either side of hers before Astra’s weight gave out like a shot. Alex couldn’t drop her if she tried. She allowed Astra to cling to her, and soon felt her skin grow wet with tears. It must have happened before. Countless wives and lovers had cradled this damaged woman until she had the will to piece herself back together. Alex wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last.

For a fleeting moment, a thought took hold over Alex and nearly choked her heart from out of its cavity.

_She deserves better than me._


	7. Whiplash

Alex woke late the next morning. To her astonishment, the chronometer glowed noon. She rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes before looking around. The place next to her gave up nothing but absence.

She slid her hand over the creases in the sheet. It felt cool. A touch of sentimentality had her eyes gliding over the vacated space. Astra’s pillow lay untouched because she had slept on Alex’s side, with her. Slowly, the previous night trickled back into memory: she and Astra intertwined, naked, making a shadow of love to one other.

Suddenly, Alex’s chest tightened. She pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. Her grip tightened hard enough to make her knuckles ache.

_Talya._

The name resounded in Alex’s heart and in her head. She had meant to welcome Talya back the night before, but the necessity of appearances took priority. Alex held her wrinkled forehead in her hand. All the necessity in the world did not alleviate the pang under her breast. They were supposed to share the night together. She was supposed to kiss every tear and trace every wound with a gentle hand. Talya had been waiting for her. She could have been waiting into the night, wondering what had kept Alex and whose bed she had ended up in. She could have been injured, vulnerable, haunted by the faces of her dead companions…

And where had Alex been? What must Talya think now?

Outside the bedroom, a sliding hiss signaled a visitor. A racket sounded. Alex strained to pick out the meaning of it. Things being shuffled about, cabinets opening, drawers rolling out, something of what sounded like a box being slid across the carpet.

Alex got out of bed and slipped on a night robe she claimed from the back of her closet. It had seen use only once, the morning after their first night on the _Divivestnik_. The faint smell of smoked sausages and burnt toast triggered the memory of a klaxon wailing at Astra’s inability to follow the oven manual. The disturbance woke up every soul on the deck only to reveal the general’s new wife in nothing but a robe.

Alex cinched the belt around her waist. Shaking her head, she combed through her sleep-mussed hair and opened the door.

“I know I slept in, but must you do that so loudly?” The state of their quarters caught Alex mid yawn. There were boxes stationed around the small cabin – the kitchen, bookshelf, closet, and desk. “What is it that you’re doing, anyway?”

Astra looked up, a dreadfully blank expression on her face. A half-second later, she was moving through the apartment with purpose. The storage containers drew her sole attention as she rummaged around, taking the contents of their cabin and putting them _into_ the boxes. Alex tilted her head, puzzled as to why after fourteen months aboard the ship Astra would choose now to relocate. Did she have her eye on somewhere roomier? Perhaps a bigger kitchen to support her culinary endeavors?

Or did her reasons come from far graver origins? Recalling her psychology classes, Alex took note of the radical changes someone made after experiencing a traumatic event in their life. Could it be that Astra’s ordeal on the space station had been too much for her emotionally? It was possible she was suffering from post-traumatic stress and felt the need to change her surroundings.

Something had taken hold of Astra. Whatever it was sought to keep her designs from her own wife.

“Astra…?”

“I am packing,” came the succinct reply. Astra returned to the living room. The bookshelf still held a number of books. She scanned their titles before selecting one and deciding whether or not it deserved to join the others.

Alex looked from the container to the book of poetry being paged through. “Packing? Why?”

“The brigade is needed in settling a civil dispute in the Arkon Region. The _Divivestnik_ is the closest available vessel to respond. We will be dispatched to Fangshan, a jungle planet native to warring tribes.”

Alex’s eyes darted across the floor, her heart pounding in her throat. She looked back at Astra, frown deepening. “But your battalions just got back from battle. Don’t they deserve a reprieve or something?”

The sound of packing stalled. Astra met Alex’s gaze. “Concern,” she deduced with a studious eye. “I wonder, is it for the brave souls of the Guard or for one person in particular?”

An icy warning slithered up Alex’s spine, over her shoulder, and coiled round her heart. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side. She didn’t know whether to defend herself or shrink in terror. When the question finally clamored out, it contained a slight waver. “Would you care to explain what is going on here? I’m not a Martian.”

“While you were asleep, I reported to the bridge to update Admiral Zhao. He was tied up with unexpected business, so I bided my time. In the interim, I conversed with Jack. He had some intel to report.” Instead of confirming her wife’s increasing heart rate, she focused on shoving books away. “I would ask if you were ever going to tell me, but that would imply I give a damn.” A bronze celestial orb that served as a bookend was rammed atop a stack of leather-bound books. Then, thinking better of it, she picked it back up and returned it to its place on the shelf with a thud. “Why ask questions when the answers are irrelevant? It would be wishful thinking to assume you thought this through with a modicum of integrity.” She shook her head with a spiteful huff. “It might make sense if humans were granted a place on the intelligence scale out of pity.”

Alex held her ground, arms folded across night robe and all. “What are you accusing me of?”

“In delicate terms?” The even tone of voice shocked like ice water. “I am accusing you of breaking your oath to me with Talya Fel-Du.”

The moment Alex convinced herself would never come hung suspended between them. It felt calmer than she imagined. Then again, sometimes the most volatile emotions exhausted themselves before manifesting. Astra must be feeling so much she was rendered almost… civil.

Steeling herself, Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re angry.”

“I’m angry?” Astra’s face finally opened, her mask peeling back to reveal astonishment. Perhaps even disappointment in Alex’s failure to deduce her. “This is not about me. In case you haven’t learned from your race's ancestors, disreputable actions have disreputable consequences.” She paused only to bring her hands to her hips. “You had to boast your indiscretions all about the ship. Who knows how many people have caught on. Do you have any idea what the ramifications would be if my superiors found out? It would not be my reputation alone on the line. This entire carrier would be at the mercy of an internal affairs committee. They would mount an investigation into allegations of professional misconduct, sexual harassment –“

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Command doesn’t care,” Astra enunciated as if she was speaking to a child. “Whether it be a matter of harassment or the exchange of sexual favors, the risk of disgracing the Guard is too high to allow a human civilian to foul it up. They will protect the integrity of this institution and if that means punishing the parties involved then so be it.”

Alex’s cheeks flamed. “This is not about the Guard or some stupid press release. Don’t treat me like your inferior. This is about me humiliating you.” The lack of reply spurred her to give Astra a scathing once over. “And you’re too scared to admit it. The truth is that no one on this ship respects you in any personal capacity. You have no friends. You just have Jack doing all your dirty work for you, peeping in on consenting adults and then snitching on them to boost your ego. And the sad part of all this is that even if you learned of the affair early on, you did nothing. You never confronted Talya and you never confronted me. Now when there’s a chance this whole thing might circulate, instead of defending yourself, you’re going to run away. But not before kicking the competition to the curb.”

“You misunderstand. Command calls for the _Divivestnik_ to report for duty. Myself and the crew aboard. That includes you as well.” Having successfully blindsided Alex, she continued over her wife’s stalled reaction. “As I said, my brigade is required to intervene on Fangshan and, hopefully, bring them back from the brink of madness.”

“Bullshit,” spat Alex. She could even taste the blood in it. “You don’t want to be suspected, so you volunteered.”

Jaw twitching, Astra drove on regardless. “Civil unrest is spreading like a virus across the entire planet. The current regime has called upon the UPL to send reinforcements to push back the insurgents. A disgraced commander is leading a military coup against the head of state and all aligning tribes. I will be training the regime’s soldiers in guerilla tactics while my technical specialists install communications relays in strategic areas throughout the jungle. It will be a difficult task, not to mention very dangerous, however that is why the Kryptonian Guard is so highly valued for these types of operations.”

“Jesus,” muttered Alex, shaking her head vacantly, “do you hear yourself? I want to have a civil discussion and you want to go to war. Why can’t we just discuss this like adults?”

“Clearly, you would rather discuss this in someone else’s bed.”

The remark snapped like a whip. Alex sighed, somewhat relieved that Astra was finally letting off some steam and acknowledging the heart of the matter. She wasn’t sure it would ever happen. Frankly, she couldn’t defend herself against a “morally superior” wife. There was no arguing with a brick wall.

Alex let her arms fall to her sides. She wondered how difficult it must be for Astra to pinch every facial muscle in disgust. How much energy must she be expending to hide the embarrassment? The betrayal? And for whom? No one else shared the room with them. There would be no witnesses to a hairline crack, a wince, a whimper. At least, that would be the human thing to do.

“I’ll never love you like you want,” Alex said gently. “Why don’t you just divorce me?”

“Why? So you can marry her? Do you actually think she will take you?”

“You are nothing like Talya. You have no idea how alive she makes me feel. How special. I _feel_ things when I’m with her. She doesn’t suffocate me like you do.”

“She cares nothing for you.” As soon as it left her mouth, Astra blinked and diverted her gaze to the ground where it searched. She shook her head as if realizing the impact of her words. “It brings me no joy to say it. This is not the first time Talya has taken a lover.” She raised her head and said, “She draws them in with flattery and favors, and she throws them away once they’ve sated her.”

Alex drew her brows together. All the irrational hate that had built since Astra slipped that cold ring on her finger boiled inside her. It felt like a hole was burning through her chest, and it hurt. It hurt like she never would have imagined. Before she could even begin to question why, Astra asked on her behalf.

“How do you suppose I know? Because after she’s had her fill, it is out to the trash with them. She brags about her conquests, scorning their pettiness and enjoying the thrill of the pursuit.”

“I don’t believe you,” sneered Alex. “You know nothing. You wouldn’t know love if it smacked you in the face.”

“Heivan.”

“What?”

“The exotic paradise that is Heivan,” said Astra, “where lovers can hike in the shadow of volcanos and drink frivolously under the sun. It was to be your salvation, your escape from marital bondage and prying eyes.” When Alex failed to respond, Astra went hard as stone. “She suggested it, did she not?!”

The bark successfully rattled Alex. She shook herself out of the memory, so promising before, now hopelessly ironic. “You…” The wobble in her voice took a hint from her unsteady gait. She swallowed, begging for her voice to work and her feet to find roots. “You were spying on us. She wouldn’t have told you anything.”

“It is the last place she takes all her lovers,” Astra explained. “She uses them up, having her fill as a serpent would its prey, and leaves bare bones in her wake. You don’t have to take my word for it. Everyone on the _Divivestnik_ with an ear for gossip knows of Talya’s exploits.”

“If her behavior is so detestable to you, why is she still your second-in-command?”

A flood of satisfaction overwhelmed Alex. She smirked inwardly. The possibility of catching Astra off-guard boded well for Alex. It meant she had the upper hand. Her breathing came easier despite the tense waves coming off of Astra. Now Alex couldn’t claim to be the only person guilty of wrongdoing. The general wasn’t so noble after all.

Indeed, the question caused Astra pause. After a moment, she unclenched her jaw and answered smoothly, “I answer to no one but my conscience. As of this afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Talya has been transferred to serve on another vessel. At her request.”

“Because you threatened her!”

“After everything I have given you, you dare question my authority? My principles? Is this how you repay me?”

Alex balled her fists. The temptation to test the general’s mettle swam through her like an intoxicating drug. She shook her head and spoke lowly. “I have never seen such jealousy and spite in a person.”

“I am protecting your name. Some would call that gratitude.”

“I call it despicable. I don’t know what you think you feel for me, but it is not love. Anyone with an ounce of compassion would walk away. Why can’t you just walk away, Astra?”

“Because I made a vow to you!” roared Astra, growing red to the tips of her ears. The glossy structure of her hair nearly jumped to her sudden spike of rage. “Talya is not here, Alex. She’s gone. I am here. I am staying despite this pretense of a marriage. She has plundered my home like a thief, and she is getting away with it.”

“Because you sent her away.” Alex nearly choked over the lump in her throat. She swallowed it only to feel it plummet to the pit of her stomach. “You can’t keep me here forever. I’ll…” What would she do? What could she do? “I’ll find her. She’s the only person I’ve ever loved. I’ll be damned if I stay here with you. It makes me sick to be in the same room with you.”

“Open your eyes, Alexandra. She has ensnared you, and once she has had her fun you will be tossed out. And where will you go? You cannot go back to your family. It would bring dishonor on them. The day you became my wife was the day you made a commitment to our life. If you stand by the vows we made that day, you will accompany me to Fangshan.”

The doors disappeared. The porthole window turned to durasteel. All hope of freedom melted into the void outside the ship as if sucked by a vacuum. As if it hadn’t existed to begin with.

Tears welled in Alex’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so cruel?”

“I am not making you do anything against your will.” Her voice did not waver even as Alex’s oppression began to spill over. “Since the day I met you, I have given you choices. I have not forced you into this marriage. You had every chance to turn me down just like you had every opportunity to turn her down. But you didn’t. You made up your mind without assistance from me. You are not a child, Alex. Isn’t that what you told me that day in Princeton? You wanted so much to live an honest life, one of independence and choice. Well, you have it. You have made your bed. Now lie in it.”

Watching Astra resume packing sent a flare of panic through her. “It’s a fucking jungle, Astra! I’ve never been anywhere but Earth. What good would I be to you on a warring planet?”

Without lifting a finger off the book spines her eyes were scanning, Astra replied, “I’m sure you will think of something to occupy your time. After all, you had no problem finding amusement aboard this ship.”

* * *

After throwing on a change of clothes, Alex fled the cabin as if it had caught fire. She marched down one corridor after another. Her fist slammed into a call button, leaving her stewing in the lift. Then it was back to marching. Her pace didn’t slow. She needed to get the blood moving to areas that didn’t explode into a migraine. Still, her temples pulsed and her mind seethed.

The floor echoed to her footfalls as she swept past personnel. Alex felt like she was walking a tightrope. Two options lay before her now, two options forced on her with the weight of the entire world. The path she thought she was leading encompassed a narrowing foot width which impelled her to fall one way or the other: Astra or Talya, prison or disgrace. She swore she would never live like this. Leaving Earth behind was supposed to be her ticket to freedom. There were places to see, specimens to study, and discoveries to be made. Now her departure from the only home she had ever known was bringing her ruin. She had depended on the wrong person. Her marriage to Astra backfired, tying her ever closer to her impending fate.

Alex made a beeline for the main bridge. The smell of coffee hung in the air. Its invigorating scent tickled her nose to annoyance as it grew stronger on approach to the open hatchway. The afternoon shift was just starting to drink away the cobwebs when Alex swept past the guard on duty.

“Excuse me, ma’am…”

“Don’t _ma’am_ me,” Alex growled, stride not faltering.

Before the guard could leave his post to question her security clearance, a voice stopped him.

“It’s alright, ensign.” Jack returned to studying his star chart. Arms folded on the table, he hunched over the glowing lines with an added weight of foreboding. “Can’t say this is a surprise.”

The light from the table bathed his good humor in an almost saintly glow. Alex restrained the urge to make teeth marks on the inside of her cheek. She inhaled, nostrils flaring. “You son of a bitch.”

“Well, hello, Alex. I’m fine. Thanks for asking. How are you feeling today?”

“I’m feeling betrayed.”

“Hm, betrayal… Now there’s a dish I can’t refuse. Take for instance, the enduring rivalry between Bill and Ridge. Just throw in an old flame, a long pause of astonishment over a dramatic score, and you’ve got a recipe for delicious scandal.”

She slammed her hand down on the table. Jack didn’t give so much as a flinch. Alex couldn’t feel the sting to her palm over the fury storming inside her. This was no time for soap opera humor. “You told Astra,” she enunciated clear enough for his benefit. “You told her behind my back.”

“Like you went behind hers?”

“I didn’t fuck Talya just to break Astra’s heart!”

The shout resounded off the walls and transparisteel windows. Nearby Tauros could have picked it up on their radar. Everyone in the general vicinity froze. Silence reigned on the bridge as the tension thickened like molasses.

Alex met the stares, feeling their judgement prickle the back of her neck. She rounded back to Jack.

He raised his brow. “I didn’t say it.”

A heavy dose of accountability shot through Alex’s bloodstream. It worked on her like a sedative, burdening her limbs and weakening her convictions. She dropped her gaze and nibbled fretfully at her lip. She couldn’t take the attention any more than she could escape it. Their critical stares were just too much right now. She had barely come to accept the emotional consequences of the previous night and what that meant for her future with Talya.

Before she realized what she had said, Jack took her gently by the arm and guided her into his quarters. The nearby office hosted a sitting area in addition to a desk and holoconference table.

The sofa set awaited them with its plush pillows and suede upholstery. Alex had a particular attachment to the cup holder-decked arm chair which had seen numerous beer-soaked popcorn kernels over movie marathons. Alex’s stomach churned. She didn’t feel like sitting. She didn’t want comfort. She wanted answers.

“If you’re expecting an apology, you’re not going to get it.” Jack sauntered to the beverage cart occupied by decanters and a stack of crystal tumblers. A musical clink accompanied his plucking up of a glass which he subsequently filled halfway. The blue contents sloshed around amid his salute. “Care for a drink?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you on duty?”

Jack smacked his lips in satisfaction over the first sip and slipped off his uniform jacket. “Looks like I just clocked out.” He tossed the jacket over the back of the sofa to punctuate the statement. “You going to stop grinding your teeth and join me?”

She remained absolutely committed to her argument. “You could have told her before the incident on the space station. Instead, you advised me to be there with her when she came back, and then you waited till the morning to spring the news on her.” While Jack made himself comfortable on the loveseat, Alex stayed standing. She fixed a cool gaze on his perfect hair, his perfect shirt and suspenders, and his perfect nonchalance. “What I’d like to know is why.”

“To be honest, I thought you would confess the moment she walked through the door.”

“Well, you thought wrong. Why did you do it, Jack? Why this particular day?”

“Astra could have died at the hands of mercenaries,” he explained conversationally. “Because you’re a civilian, I’ll grant you a pass for not understanding what one faces in a hailstorm of battle. But we’ve had this conversation before, Alex. You know the nuts and bolts of an operation. Astra and her teams were pinned down by armed forces and short on ammunition and rations. They had no means of communicating with the _Divivestnik_ for reinforcements. For some of them, it was the last chance they would ever have to weigh the consequences. And for others, they must have thought those were their last hours alive.”

The shadows around Jack’s eyes grew darker as he slid to the edge of his seat. “It must have escaped you, the horrors plaguing the individuals on that space station. You see, it’s the final thoughts before death that really shake a person. It grabs hold of you, and if you make it out alive, those thoughts either turn you into a monster or change you in unimaginable ways. Experiences like that mold a person. Everything around them comes into startling focus, including those closest to them.”

Alex really didn’t like where he was taking this. The beginnings of guilt were stirring in her gut, making her nauseous at the very sight of his florescent drink. “What’s your point, Jack?”

“Astra fought tooth and nail to come out of that nightmare, thinking she was your world. That’s what spouses do for each other. They fight until there’s no life left in them. Making you a widow was a choice she couldn’t bear to make. Do you know that she regrets taking you away from your family? She couldn’t bring your parents on the ship, but the option of leaving you deprived on Earth was intolerable. Dying in battle would have done that. Do you understand what I’m trying to get at? Astra couldn’t abandon you because she was under the impression that you needed her.”

“And do _you_ understand my rationale in keeping the affair from her? Maybe it wasn’t about self-preservation. Isn’t it better if, one day, she dies believing I was faithful to her? Wouldn’t that bring anyone peace?”

“Maybe for some people. But in case you haven’t noticed, Astra is unlike the rest of us romantics. She would choose a painful truth over fantasy any day of the week. For as strained as you think your relationship was, you’ve forced her to live in a dream world.” He paused to let her turn over the notion. “Although I don’t regret tipping off Astra, I recognize what you’re feeling right now.” He tilted his head in condolence, the crinkles around his eyes squeezing sorrow from them. “Get it out, Alex. Before it turns you into a person you don’t like.”

A splash of cold turned Alex’s face pallid. Her cheek stung to the pinch. Her jaw ached to the thoughtless retribution she wrought on herself. Everything hurt for reasons incomprehensible to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

“… No.”

“Alex…”

“Jack, don’t make me do it. You don’t deserve to… to be burdened with this.”

“Burden me, please.”

Something in his small smile told her he had taken worse. Despite his recent actions, Jack had been her friend. Judging by the companionship softening his gaze, his abandoned drink, and the proffered hand, palm up, he still thought of them as friends.

Alex accepted the offer with an uncertain hand. He squeezed it in turn and pulled her down to her favorite arm chair. Her gaze met the carpet out of embarrassment. She scrubbed her free hand on her thigh, wiping away the evidence while simultaneously warming life into her numb body.

“I know –“ She cleared her throat and started again at the squeeze of reassurance to her hand. “I know it might seem like I hated Astra in the beginning and maybe she did piss me off. She made me feel trapped. This marriage… it was one-sided. I felt nothing and she felt… _everything_ for me. It wasn’t my goal to screw her over.” A sickening twist of her gut told her differently. She did hate Astra. She may have fallen for another woman, but Talya came at the opportune moment. She had been an excuse to lie and cheat. If Alex felt any remorse at all, it wasn’t for using Talya. Alex felt too sick to determine the source of these thorny regrets.

“It’s just,” Alex gave him a scolding look, “why did you have to tell her? I know we’re not the closest of friends, but I thought you had my back. You’re supposed to be the captain of the ship, not a tattle.” She inhaled sharply, ignoring the sting her fingernails creasing her palm. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you just stay out of my business? This is not how things were supposed to turn out, and now that you opened your mouth, I’m paying for… for….”

“Hey, it’s just me here. Calm down.” Jack took her shaking fist in his hand and soothed her with his voice. “What happened?”

Alex choked back a woeful moan. She wanted so badly to disappear, to not have to speak out loud. Her free hand clamored to her mouth where it found little repose over her trembling lips.

“Alex, talk to me. What did Astra do?”

“She’s… accepted… a mission,” Alex managed between hiccups. She used her fingers to massage the knot between her breasts. The burning in her chest was not due to the repressing of sobs. “She’s taking her brigade to some planet undergoing a civil war. The operation is the very definition of dangerous. And not just her brigade.” She peered at him through wet lashes. “Astra is dragging me into a war zone. To punish me.”

Jack leaned back, stunned by the news. “I knew about our course for Fangshan, but I didn’t think…” He squinted, trying to work it out for himself. “You’re telling me that Astra is forcing you to accompany her to the surface?”

Alex sniffed. “She gave me an ultimatum, one so unfair it’s like I have no choice but to stay with her. This is suicide, Jack! I have no military training. How can I possibly survive?”

“Well, can you honestly say this is a surprise? You gave her the impression that your marriage was monogamous. While the two of you were sharing a bed, you were also sleeping with someone else. What did you think was going to happen? That she would forgive and forget? That she would hand you off to the woman who stole you away?”

“No one stole me away,” growled Alex. “I acted of my own free will.”

“And now you have to live with the consequences.”

Alex dropped her head in her hands with a sigh. This was not what she needed. She came there to rip Jack a new one, to rage and scream at someone without fear of being manipulated. Because there was no possibility of being played any more than she had been, by Jack, by Astra, by her own willful desires. All sorts of emotions were twisting inside her, making war on each other, and the last thing she needed to do was look in the mirror. The wounds were too raw to start dissecting each and every wrong.

When her heart rate returned to some normality, she raised her head. It was the last question she felt ready to voice, but the answer might afford clarity. She had a decision to make. Perhaps the most painful news would bring her closer to acceptance.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Talya?”

Jack watched her for a moment before speaking. “Tell you what? That she’s a scheming witch that breaks young women’s hearts?” At Alex’s liquid stare, he huffed. “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

Alex looked down. Something indescribable shook within her. It felt like everything she believed in was crumbling one brick at a time. She hugged herself around the middle to keep the worst of it in. Hot tears leaked from her eyes which frantically searched around her. A white-hot reaction was about to burst out of her and it had nowhere to go.

Thankfully, Jack took her by the shoulders and rubbed along her arms to shock some life into her. Bottom lip trembling, she ventured a glance. He stood over her, not as an angel or a critic but as a human being. His eyes, swimming blue, reflected the trepidation in her own.

She stood only to wobble into a haphazard hug. She clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, and giving in to her own wretchedness. And how wretched she was. Alex Danvers, the naïve human, liar, adulteress, and reckless excuse for a woman.

Despite the animosity exchanged between them over the past week, they hugged it out. Jack’s ordinary strength allowed him the freedom to tighten the embrace to his heart’s content which called for a very tight embrace indeed.

“Will you promise to write?” he rasped against her shoulder.

The polyester against Alex’s cheek was as soft as an old friend. The journey ahead of her should have given her cause to flip out into hysterics. Instead, she chuckled, terrified to find out what lurked beneath.

“Yeah, I’ll write.” She lay her head on his shoulder.

They took shuddering breathes, held each other against the stars, and cried as one.


	8. The Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: blood, organs, surgical stuff.

_Three months later..._

The contents of what vaguely resembled coffee swirled at the bottom of her cup. Alex grimaced and drank the last of it anyway. Gritty bits stuck to the back of her tongue. It was worth the caffeine hit. She would need it where she was headed today.

A crawling sensation prickled at the back of her neck. Nerves could get her killed and put others in danger. She accepted it as a necessary evil. It kept things in perspective: the separated families, damaged minds, and severed limbs.

She pulled at her shirt collar. Normally, the uniform wore her well and she it. The shirt was comfortable and the trousers provided pockets aplenty. Her nondescript vest identified her as a non-combative. Its intense white color stood out among the green and blue landscapes, not to mention the darker colors worn by military. Although Fangshan had fallen into turmoil, the rules of engagement still applied. People like her didn’t get shot on sight (at least, they weren’t _supposed_ to be shot on sight). A small blessing considering the state of affairs. Alex might value all her limbs, but she believed that hanging onto this one rule fell very short from the vows she took. Like never taking a life.

After filling her pants pockets and vest with the usual tools, she headed for the front door. There on the chair she grabbed her bag. Its corners were as bedraggled as she felt. She might have to put in an order for a replacement. Suddenly, shame stabbed her at the thought of a supply drop. Here she was complaining about a pack when there were kids starving in their homes. 

Alex slipped on her boots and double knotted them. At first glance they appeared like normal hiking boots. They stood up to all sorts of terrain, rocky or boggy. No one could have calculated the hours spent digging bits of entrails out of the laces and scrubbing and dunking the pair in disinfectant.

Exiting the one-story bungalow, Alex made her way through the compound. Gunmetal gray skies let no direct sunlight through. An eerie kind of light lit the surface. Wherever its source, there would be no seeing it in its blazing fashion anytime soon. Not the sun or the planet’s two small moons.

There was not much conversation to be had in the area. With the soldiers out on duty, only the sick and recovering remained behind the concrete wall in their respective houses. Alex walked past one bungalow after another, each one a carbon copy of the one assigned to her and Astra. Nothing much changed around here. Same old sights. The usual weather. She could rely on the quiet streets and the puddles accumulating in the ditches to meet her every afternoon. Not many officers invited their families to a war zone, which explained why there was no one left around the compound for Alex to socialize with. She might have minded the isolation during her first week on Fangshan but not anymore. Not when she had an actual job now.

It was a ten-minute walk to the boundary. The security guards knew her face, so passing through checkpoints was a breeze. Navigating beyond the compound was a different matter. The first day she stepped outside (against Astra’s one and only rule), the unending fields of blue confounded her. Fangshan once had a thriving ecosystem. Wildlife lived, multiplied, and expired by nature’s law just as its native humanoid population did. For generations the Fangshani lived in harmony with its environment. Until civil war erupted. Neighbor turned against neighbor and small coups exploded into a planet-wide civil war. Justifications were made for the manufacturing of deadly weapons. Casualties became collateral damage.

Smog from warfare polluted Fangshan’s ecosystem, sickening the weak and turning the beautiful into something unrecognizable. Black clouds moved in to hover permanently over the land. The planet saw constant rainfall, triggering floods and contaminating wells. The rain, a heinous mix of chemicals, was the cause for the florescent blue fields surrounding the compound. If Alex hadn’t done her research, she might have thought the spread of land looked healthy, beautiful even.

Roving shadows loomed over Alex. She pushed away the sense of dread it gave her and drove on through the slight opening in the field. The trail was well tread and easy to follow. Once, Alex made the mistake of passing through the nearest town. When she arrived, a swarm of bodies descended. Dozens of fingers probed her clothes and bag for food. The children were no more than ten years of age. She still remembered the feeling of their three-fingered hands clawing desperately at her vest pockets. She made the mistake of giving them her day’s rations – a bag of edible fungi, nuts, and a square of honey-flavored candy native to Krypton. It wasn’t much and she wished she had more. The sickness ran liquid in their eyes.

When she told her new colleague of the encounter, she received a dressing down. Don’t visit the towns without medical backup. The Fangshani were susceptible to a disease called _chanbo_. Before the war, it remained safely in the rainforests. Then hostilities flared, causing staggering ecological changes and a mass exodus of refugees. Chanbo went from dormant to aggressive within weeks. It spread through families like wildfire, killing indiscriminately. Although there had yet to be a documented case of cross-species contamination, the medical authorities on Fangshan were not taking any chances. Instead of passing through a possibly contaminated community, Alex was given an alternate route through the blue polluted fields encircling the compound. It didn’t occur to anyone that she was trading in one hazard for another. The route through those fields gave her just as many shudders as did a sea of famine.

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. Still, she felt sick to her stomach that there were glassy-eyed kids in the town a mile away. They would have eaten anything, anything to sate the pain in their swollen bellies. Alex felt like a monster. Her colleagues had stressed the hazards of offering her own rations. The compound wasn’t rich in supplies; they only had what fed and clothed them from one day to the next. Sometimes it wasn’t enough. Sometimes the supply drops were intercepted and burned in spite by insurgents. Day and night Alex reminded herself that she helped in other ways. One of them was keeping herself healthy. Another was getting to work on time.

* * *

“Danvers, are you going to stand there or are you going to help this man?”

“Sir?”

J’onn shot her a gruff look. “Do you see where my hands are?”

Alex’s gaze hadn’t left the pool of blood since he sunk his hands in up to the wrists not three minutes ago. Every slight movement made the blood seep and bubble over. “I’ve found the artery. It needs to be clamped before he bleeds out. Get me those pliers over there.”

Alex kept herself fed and warm for this very reason – because she saved lives. Or, rather, she helped to save lives.

“Yes, sir.”

After a quick but thorough wash in disinfectant, she slipped on a pair of gloves and took the pliers from the surgical cart. Standing lamps on weatherproof tripods lit the work area. Their glaring blaze made working in the large, sectioned tent bearable. This particular section was reserved for surgical cases.

The nearest lamp cast a limp, half naked body in a near abusive light. A combination of that day’s lunch of egg noodles and coffee churned in Alex’s stomach. It suddenly occurred to her that J’onn only had two hands. Her racing mind harked back to her medical courses and the necessity of holding the two severed ends of an artery while a second person clamped it together.

Alex stood staring at the scene, her mouth parted and her nose shrinking at the smell. Surgery was not her expertise. None of her education and experience working in academia prepared her to treat actual patients. But J’onn wasn’t giving her a choice.

Panic swelled up her throat, teasing her gag reflex. She swallowed. Hard. Then she breathed deeply, clutching the handle of the pliers. Before J’onn could prompt her again, she stepped closer until she felt the table press against her waist. She’d seen medics tie off arteries. She could do this. Alex took another gulp of air, trying in vain to keep the stench from slithering up her nostrils. Her hands moved in, steady and precise. She didn’t have time to be surprised. A man was about to bleed out in front of her. But J’onn had given her room to work and his hands were as motionless as a still life. As she maneuvered the tips of the clamp, she could almost feel a pair of eyes on her, not watching her work but her eyes. As if he trusted her not to fuck up this human’s life.

The seconds ticked by. She had closed her eyes for what seemed like minutes ago. She funneled her attention into feeling inside the body cavity, sensing J’onn’s two hands and the slippery tube between them. She bit her lip and moved in. The sounds of pained soldiers distilled to a vague drone in the background. She could still feel J’onn’s eyes on her, but she didn’t hesitate. His patience soothed her. Except for the one thought exploding through her mind, _How can he be so fucking calm right now?!_

The tip of her searching index finger slid past something taut. The blood vessel. She felt around for a place to clamp it. As she maneuvered, a sticky sucking sound discharged and hot fluid welled up. She made the mistake of opening her eyes.

“You aren’t going to go KIA on me, Danvers, are you?”

“Bmmph, no, sir.”

She had the sense to close her eyes and focus on the task. When she successfully clamped the artery, they removed their hands. She released a resounding sigh of relief and stepped away from the table.

J’onn’s gloves having received the worst of it, he held his high so as not to get blood everywhere. Not that it mattered. Blood in a triage unit was as common as ice and whiskey in the tropics. Alex sighed heavily and used her shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat streaming from her forehead. What she wouldn’t give for a whiskey.

Half of the camp’s doctors and nurses were busy with incoming wounded. The other half were occupied with their own patients. One just so happened to be passing by.

J’onn quickly signaled to the nearest medic. “This soldier needs stitching up.”

“Yes, Commander. Right away.”

The efficiency with which things got done around J’onn might have astounded a newcomer. His deep, near barking orders straightened spines and set boots in motion. Alex liked to think she had spent enough time around him to mark him as a warm-hearted warrior. He had feelings; she saw it when he trudged into camp, sweating through his shirt and panting while bearing wounded. Some of the soldiers had bets about how many he could bring in in a day. Alex thought such a bet was a grim means of passing the time. Then again, she didn’t get the barrage of missiles and hail fire bearing on them every damn day. Their casual little game was a compliment to the famed Martian. J’onn went out of his way, mostly at risk of his own skin, to drag fellow soldiers out of ditches, regardless of their chances.

If Alex was a betting person, she’d put money on J’onn’s leadership being why so many followed his orders to swift execution. That and his reputation. J’onn J’onnz commanded the Martian Marauders, a rag-tag team of Martians who had survived the centuries old massacre on their planet. He was rumored to be the oldest soldier in existence. A heavy burden to carry, Alex thought.

His so-called heroics were as legendary on Fangshan as elsewhere. At the time of his arrival at camp that afternoon, the tent had no available surgeons, so he took control of the situation and saw fit to put his hands in another man’s body to staunch the blood. He might only have basic combat medical training, but he had a couple centuries of life experience on some of these doctors.

“That was good work.”

The voice startled Alex. She blinked, recognizing it as a compliment. “Oh,” she said, scrubbing her hands in the wash basin. “Uh, thanks.”

“How long have you served under Dr. Lane?”

“If you have to ask, sir, maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

“What makes you say that?”

Her hands were adequately dry, but she held onto the towel, twisting it. She hedged for the appropriate response. Something about this man made her want to impress him, make him proud even.

She swallowed and said, “The medical team here all have the same educational background. They attended the best universities in the galaxy, trained under mentors, and received their residencies and fellowships long before they were posted to Fangshan. They’ve proven themselves.” The occupied beds around them seemed to press in on her, demanding her attention. She folded her arms so as to shrink back from a possible disastrous situation. “I haven’t made the best impression.”

His puffing exhale could have resembled a huff. His eyes, however, were a deep brown like the earth when it wasn’t drenched in blood and soot. They were soft and smiling at her. She just hoped these weren’t pity eyes. She knew the chain of command here and how far he outranked everyone on Fangshan. He had every right to reprimand her, whether she held a blaster or a scalpel.

“I appreciate that you don’t complain,” he said. “It’s more than I can say for some of my soldiers, and they’re an elite bunch according to UPL. But you need to stop minding everyone’s toes. You’re going to throw people off, sure. We all have in these circumstances. I encourage you to do so before you get yourself killed.”

The suggestion rang odd to Alex’s ears. Had he just advised her to get on people’s nerves? Obviously, not on purpose, but still. “Killed, sir? That’s not my intention. I’ve had basic training. Sort of.”

Alex winced, thinking back to the one-week course with one of Astra’s lieutenants. She was taught how to shoot a rifle, navigate the jungle, and avoid traps. Basically, how _not_ to get killed. The pass/fail test culminated in that same lieutenant going into shock on her table. She liked to think she passed by pure dumb luck due to the cause of an allergic reaction and not a combat related injury. It was embarrassing really.

J’onn’s head tilted. When he spoke, his voice came with an edge. “Your restraint distracts you. If you really want to help – help. Don’t be intimidated by medical degrees and mentors. That doesn’t matter out here.”

 _Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth_ , she told herself. _He’s trying to keep you out of an early grave._

Alex nodded. She straightened despite the lack of formality required between an officer and a mere consultant. “Yes, sir. And thank you.”

He gave a firm nod. The clicks of radios echoed from one of the command tents nearby. He picked up his blaster rifle where he left it leaning against a surgical cart and exited.

The tension in Alex’s shoulders melted. J’onn tried to look out for her whenever he passed through camp. Little words of advice here, a chance to aid his ailing soldiers there. Despite her own reservations about getting more involved, he might have a point. Even experienced doctors needed assistance. And with some of their field doctors getting killed in action, their pool of knowledgeable medics was drying up. It benefited everyone in the long run for young upstarts like Alex to be thrown into the deep end, learn what they could, so they could replace the depleting number of doctors. Hence Alex being pushed outside her comfort zone, no matter how overwhelming the task.

There was always something to do, be it setting a broken leg, making pillow runs for the patients, or entering data on a computer. The cases were many and their complexity just as hair raising. Life at the medical camp could be dirty, long suffering, and, ultimately, demoralizing. The more complicated cases could be tricky to treat in these conditions. Although the medical camp in this area had the necessities, there could be times when bandages were short or the pipe pumping fresh water into camp had been obstructed. The next supply drop depended on how much ground the UPL forces covered. Setbacks and casualties forced the camp to pack up and retreat at a moment’s notice. Sometimes, the severely wounded had to be left behind. It wasn’t known what fate befell them, whether the insurgents took them prisoner or executed them on the spot. If UPL Command knew, they weren’t sharing.

The only reason Alex didn’t retch her guts out of guilt was because there were so many other patients in worse shape. Patients lucky enough to be transported. It didn’t seem fair to resort to such an extreme when she could be cleaning up _their_ vomit.

“You could also do with a thicker skin.”

Alex dropped her hand towel into a waste bin. She turned to face a woman wearing a similar uniform vest. The voice belonged to Dr. Lucy Lane, resident badass and serial eavesdropper. Not the toes to step on, but perhaps Alex had a special enough relationship with her to get away with it.

“Seriously?” Alex muttered. She meant it for herself, but Lane caught it with a raise of her brow. Alex shrugged harmlessly. “I just feel like everyone’s ganging up on me. That’s not me complaining. It’s just an observation.”

Lucy headed for a smaller connected tent where they worked. She crooked a finger for Alex to follow. Being a pupil and friend to the lead medical officer in this territory had its benefits. One of which happened to be a private office.

Sometimes she envied Lucy, a woman who had everything she could ever want: a thriving career, a wife who adored her, the respect of friends and colleagues… Lucy had these things and more. Judging by her successes as a doctor and the yearning in her voice when talking about her wife’s next visit, she seemed genuinely happy with her life and the paths she’d chosen.

Alex couldn’t help but wonder what paths Lucy had taken to get here. She and Lucy were close in age, but their backgrounds couldn’t be more different. While Alex had to scrap every last dollar to finance her education, Lucy made do with an inheritance. Her father was an officer in the UPL army, so he took his family with him wherever he served. Lucy and her sister traveled all over the galaxy as children. They had seen things Alex couldn’t believe – twin suns on Talos, a tri-ped species who communicated through a snapping of their fingers, ecological oddities such as lavender-hued rivers and edible tree bark that tasted of chocolate. Also, there were space-bound cruise liners designed as trains measuring ten football fields long, and, of course, the ever-popular tale of the female warrior tribes of Jeepsom Prime.

The marvels of Lucy’s childhood seemed tantamount to fairy tales. Alex often speculated why such a well-traveled woman chose a career in medicine over, say, becoming a novelist or photographer. A bit of whimsy always accompanied her accounts; Alex found herself longing for a cup of tea and a fireside chair when settling in for another story. Still, Lucy’s fascination for travel greatly enriched her bedside manner. She had a knack for making her patients comfortable (if her skills in medicine didn’t cut it, of course).

Being born into privilege hardly meant that Lucy didn’t earn her place. According to the griping of Alex’s colleagues, the rigors of medical school were as overwhelming at prestigious institutions than those of Earth, if not more so. Money and a good word didn’t serve instant gratification in the form of a degree. If one couldn’t take the demands, the late nights, the gallons of caffeine, and lack of a social circle they’d crack like an egg under pressure.

Upon entering the next tent, a cool breeze dried the perspiration on Alex’s face. Each tent had a purification system to filter out bacteria and circulate fresh air. This workspace had a privacy flap, and it was large enough for three to four people to work comfortably together. Heavy research equipment sat on a long table with bottled dyes and chemicals, test tube racks, computer monitors, and data tablets. A cot occupied the far corner. Its pillow and blanket had seen recent use, probably by Lucy (workaholic that she was). Alex had only used it once, when both Lucy and J’onn ordered her into it after pulling a double shift (they didn’t trust her to be alert enough to walk home and her wife was god knows where).

A sense of calm swam through Alex; a feeling she couldn’t admit to feeling anywhere else. She felt quite at home here in the lab.

When they were alone in the workspace, Lucy turned to her and folded her arms. “You ever think you make up this stuff in your head?”

Alex’s head jerked back, only slightly offended. “No. It’s not like I want people to distrust me.”

As if she knew her pupil’s troubles, Lucy sighed. “It happens to everyone. We all don’t appear out of thin air with stellar records and knowhow. The first tour is rough, but we’ve all had to endure it. Even a veteran like J’onn.”

“I know. I know. I’m just afraid people resent me because I haven’t paid my dues.”

“It’s not common knowledge, Alex. They wouldn’t know by your precision.” Lucy gave her a dutiful once over, the very same she employed on Alex’s first day. “You hide it well, until you open your mouth. Relax. And you know what? We’re grateful to have you here, regardless of your experience. And you’re not the first person to go dizzy at the sight of blood.”

“Hey, I was _not_ dizzy.”

“Could have fooled me.”

The casual lilt of Lucy’s mouth gave her a glow not usually seen in these dreary tents. One could hardly tell she grew up under the military strictness of a general. The urge to ask her for advice pestered Alex day after day. She’d spent a year in marital bondage to a general. She couldn’t fathom surviving another twenty years.

As Lucy rummaged through the supply crates, Alex went to their desk and plopped down in the swivel chair.

“It’s just…” She paused, looking over her day’s tasks with an envious eye. Her shoulders lightened. “I prefer the research side of things,” she said, voice thick with nostalgia. “Microscopic patients and genomes and data simulations… Everyone here has their bread and butter – their specialty. Well, bioengineering is my jam.”

Lucy grinned. “And you’re damned good at it. In fact, you’re our only specialist in human and Kryptonian biology. Last report I read, Fangshan has over 1,000 UPL soldiers from Earth and Krypton, and if a medic needs a referral, you’re their first call.”

Panic tightened her stomach like ice cold fingers. The chair’s chassis squeaked as she turned slowly to face Lucy. “Oh, well, I don’t actually have a degree in Kryptonian genetics. That’s kind of a hobby really.”

“Rule number 32: pick up knowledge wherever and whenever you can. A hobby can save a life out here.”

“Wait, what are the other 31 rules? I don’t remember any rules.”

“Oh, there are rules,” murmured Lucy distractedly. Bending over the crate, she fished out a bag of sealed microscope slides. “We just haven’t gotten to them yet.”

“You’re making this up, aren’t you?”

Lucy sized her up with a severe eye. “Is that anyway to speak to your supervisor?” She glared long enough for a smirk to surface. “Don’t second-guess me, Danvers. I tend to get superior when people override my opinion of them, and I hate to put that look of fear on your face.”

Alex schooled her expression. She must not have tried hard enough (or tried too hard) because the twitch of her mouth caused Lucy to chuckle.

“At ease before _you_ need reviving.”

Rolling her eyes, Alex huffed. She might not mind a teasing from Lucy. As long as it came with good intentions. Lucy could be severe when she wanted to be, especially where it concerned her patients. But she had a heart of gold and Alex didn’t bestow that title on anyone. Lucy had a sharp tongue and good sense of judgement. She saw the hurt in the hardest of individuals; going as far as to coax them out of their shell for treatment. She had done the same for Alex by acting as her mentor. Since her first day at the medical camp, Alex drew on Lucy’s understanding personality. A lonely, self-involved nobody would have annoyed anyone, but Lucy took her in, showed her around, and offered to teach her the ropes. The days were long, no doubt. She was expected to show up at the medical tent in the afternoon and work most of the evening after the last rotation of soldiers came in from the field. The medics needed extra hands and Alex had two to spare. When she wasn’t acting as an assistant, she devoted her time to research. The workspace Lucy set her up with had just about everything a bioengineer and chemist needed to test samples, run simulations, and report her findings to doctors stationed around Fangshan.

Were it not for Lucy, Alex would be stewing in her bungalow pitying her sorry state of being. The solitude would have fueled her hatred for Astra and her resentment of Talya. But not if she had responsibilities to attend to. Lucy gave her that; she gave her a job and plenty of encouragement to stretch her potential.

“Look,” sighed Alex, scrubbing her forehead. “I don’t want to harp. You’re a busy woman who’s in very high demand. That’s why I’m here: to learn from you. It doesn’t take an ear for gossip to know you’re the foremost expert in infectious diseases.”

Lucy tilted her head, stressing her point. “You pull your weight and then some. I’m just thrilled I have someone to pass along some of my more useless knowledge. No one else around here has your taste in molecular biology.”

“Well, molecular biology isn’t exactly in demand out here.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean it’s a deceased subject.”

The dead pan humor never failed to put a smile on Alex’s face. “I’m very grateful for this opportunity. You didn’t have to take a chance on me. And yet, however you came to the decision…” She worked her jaw, hoping no special favors were involved. “Whatever the reason, I just want you to know that I’m thankful. Whatever the expectations, I _will_ live up to them.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I was leveraged into taking you on as my student? Say, by your wife?”

Alex bristled under the scrutiny. “I’d rather you not bring her into this.”

“I don’t have to. It’s in your voice and that crinkled face of yours. You think your freedom to work here is not based on your abilities but some kind of trap wrapped up in a good deed. Like this is some grand design to punish you for cheating on her.”

“ _Really_ , Lucy?”

“Don’t Lucy me. She’s your wife. Make it work.”

“You’ve known her longer than I have,” Alex shot back, folding her arms over her chest. Although Jack could be a supportive ear, having another woman (extra points for married lesbian) gave a sense of shared experience. Still, there were some things Lucy didn’t understand. Talking about Astra whether to Jack or Lucy set Alex on edge. And she hated how it brought the whining tone in her voice. “Can’t you give me some tips? Why is she… why is she the way she is?” Alex raised her hands in frustration and let out an, “ _Argh!_ We barely see each other and when we do, she barely talks to me.”

“Well, you two _are_ eating dinner. She’s probably busy chewing her food.”

“Not funny,” griped Alex, rolling her eyes at the chuckling. “From the moment we set foot on Fangshan she refused me to go outside the compound. If being stuck on a planet in crisis isn’t punishment enough, I had to stay behind concrete walls. Then, when I took an interest in helping at the medical camp, she shrugs and allows it. When I find I have a knack for biochemistry – and don’t look at me like that, she _knows_ because I seem to be the only one making discussion during dinner – she shows no interest, no curiosity, not a bat of the eye. I don’t get it. The first week we were here she was ready to call in the entire Kryptonian Guard when I tried to step a toe outside the compound, and now that I have the license to go about my business, it’s all fine and dandy. If she’s at all concerned about her wife working a half mile from an active hot zone, she’s not showing it.”

“I do have the authority to keep you from field work.” Lucy shrugged. The plastic bag in her hands crinkled as she walked to the lab table. She busied herself with the restocking and organization of microscope slides. “And Astra knows as well as anyone how dangerous it is for combat medics, whether we wear these white vests or not. If she’s truly not worried for you, maybe it has something to do with you working under the lead medical officer.”

“Yeah, that is suspicious. Out of all the medical officers in this area, I was assigned to you. Why is that do you think?” The cunning shape of Alex’s eyes narrowed in the silence. “Seriously, did Astra put you up to this?”

Lucy gave her a warning stare. “No.”

“Then give me something to go on. Can’t you, like,” Alex winced, raising her shoulder as she dared, “ask her for me?”

“Unbelievable,” muttered Lucy. Exasperation left her in a sigh. “It’s not enough that my own wife is asking me to keep an eye on her. If anyone should be frustrated it’s me. I don’t have time to counsel couples. I barely have an hour to talk to _my_ wife.”

The shame stung Alex deep. She cursed her stupidity. How insensitive could she be, complaining about her marital issues when Lucy was missing her wife? She leaned forward in her chair, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry. Forget what I said. It’s nothing I can’t handle. You have more important things to do than do my work for me.”

“Damn, Alex. Don’t do that thing with your eyes.” Lucy assured Alex with a touch to her arm. “Don’t worry about me. I recorded a message to Alura yesterday. As short-lived as they are, the news sustains me like water in the desert.”

“How is she doing?”

“She settled a mining dispute in the Alpha Quadrant. Her next stop is Damos V.”

Alex remembered seeing the star chart on Lucy’s computer the other day. The distance between Damos V and Fangshan couldn’t be gauged with a standard calculator. The reality wilted her expression. “But that’s so far away.”

Lucy’s eyes flicked up for a moment before returned to her work. She nodded firmly. The strength applied in abating such loneliness rivaled any Alex had seen. She couldn’t imagine what Alura must be feeling, knowing her wife was toiling in the trenches. _They must have a secure relationship_ , Alex thought. _To be away from each other so long._

“It’s not all perfect, you know.” As Lucy’s hands went about prepping their next analysis, her voice spoke cautious meanderings. “Our time spent apart is a strain on our relationship. Alura and I have arguments like every couple. We make it work by communicating. I have needs and concerns as she does. With patience and trust… I don’t know how to explain it. We find a means of supporting each other.” She smirked and cast a side-eyed glance at Alex. “It also helps that we’re still young and crazy about each other.”

Alex rolled her eyes, despite the grin on her face. She would never forget the satellite call she walked in on – the one argument between Lucy and Alura fighting about who thought about the other most often in a day.

“I’ve never met her,” said Alex. “No offense, I’m sure she’s amazing. You talk about her _all_ the time,” she snarked, amused at how easily she could fluster Lucy. “But if she’s anything like her sister, I’d imagine the fights are brutal.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call that a downside.” A wide smile stretched Lucy’s mouth and reddened her cheeks. “It makes reconciling all the more satisfying.”

Unable to say the same, Alex dropped her gaze. She chewed at the inside of her cheek, suddenly aware of the guilt springing forth. Why should she be guilty for not making up with Astra? It wasn’t as if they had that kind of relationship. They weren’t having sex, much less engaging in a discussion lasting five minutes.

The chinking of glass test tubes shook Alex out of an impossible dreamworld. She looked up to find Lucy meeting her with a devastatingly imploring gaze. Alex found it difficult to swallow under that gaze. It made her feel regret for how she treated her belongings.

“You have no idea how lucky you are to have Astra,” Lucy said. “I would give anything just to see Alura come home to me every night.”


	9. Chances

Lightning split the sky, casting it in a milky silver glow. Alex looked out the window of their bungalow feeling as dreadful as the puddles filling the garden. Big drops pelted the shatter-proof glass. Another rainy night. Another silent affair.

After a rather uneventful supper, they headed to their respective corners and went about their business in relative quiet. Alex didn’t speak up like she usually did at dinner. Usually it comforted her to drone on about her work at the medical camp. She didn’t go as far as unpacking the emotional turmoil she witnessed, however just giving voice to the tasks she completed made her feel less helpless. Like she was making a difference.

The crackles of a fire turned Alex’s gaze from harsh weather to a softer glow filling the fireplace. Sitting in one of the armchairs, Astra read from her datapad. Every so often her thumb would brush the screen to scroll to the next page. The reports were numerous, detailing losses, structural damage to cities, requests for reinforcements and weapons, calls for advancing or retreat – or so Astra had explained in vague detail. The reports came from all over Fangshan. Being the lone general of Kryptonian forces on the planet held her in high esteem among the current government. It wouldn’t surprise Alex if the insurgents had secretly lobbied for her expertise and leadership, even going as far as to bribe her to their side.

But it would never happen. If Astra was anything, she was loyal. Sometimes to a cruel regime. Alex didn’t particularly support the extremes being taken by her wife’s superiors, but she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Astra didn’t have a say anyway. She followed Admiral Zhao’s orders. Even if the leading general wished to withdraw from fighting and leave the Fangshani to settle their own disputes, they could never express such an opinion out loud. It would be an opinion the local government would wring their hands in joy to exploit. Changes in military leadership had a way of opening doors for the proper people, if paid handsomely to the proper thinking.

For a fleeting moment, Alex wondered if being the highest ranked Kryptonian on Fangshan made Astra lonely. She shook the thought as soon as it surfaced.

With a weary sigh, she turned back to the window and saw the double-edged sword that was her life. The choice she made a year ago seemed so distant to her mind. Yet she remembered her options at the time. She couldn’t continue the affair because it would bring such disappointment to her family. Her parents were just beginning to settle into their long sought-after retirement, and what right had she to ruin that? What daughter would she be if she put her desires before her parents?

The affair could not continue when it was steeped in lies. If what Astra said was true, Talya would have tossed her away anyway. The sweet, playful woman who had captured Alex’s heart used the same tricks Alex used on her wife. If Jack really did know what went on around his ship, Talya had lied to Alex’s face. Cheaters really did gravitate to one another, didn’t they?

It made her sick. Nausea hit her in the most random moments. And the emotions were just as volatile. Nothing could describe the hurt, the anger, the regrets. Alex couldn’t understand what she was feeling from one minute to the next. She’d never been thrown into the deep end. She’d never been in love or made plans to spend her future with another person. She’d never swooned over clichés.

God, what was wrong with her? What monster had she turned into that would do this to people? To herself? She had insulted Jack for going over her head. When all he’d done was protect Astra – his friend – and possibly avoid a public scandal. She’d risked her marriage (farce nonetheless) when it kept her parents financially stable and her wife in good standing. Last but not least, she’d fallen for the kind of bullshit that fooled provincial, impressionable humans.

But that’s what she was, a naïve Earthling. A little girl who had been given an opportunity to stretch her potential and who saw fit to act out like a teenager when it didn’t fall into her lap. Then it all blew up in her face.

No matter where she turned, a crossroads blocked her path. At the time, Alex resorted to an inevitability. She had to stay with Astra and commit to a loveless marriage. She agreed to accompany her out of futility. There was no choice. Not really. She made hers long ago and it led to a humid, blood-soaked planet called Fangshan.

What she got in return could make one’s head spin.

The changes in Astra were marked. For one, she didn’t smile anymore. In the early months aboard the _Divivestnik_ , a random blunder from Alex almost always spurred amusement in the form of a smile screaming “aww you poor thing.” The klutz in Alex seemed to bring out the sentimental fool in Astra. There had been many bruises involved in navigating new quarters and some loss of blood at the edge of a chef’s knife. Dinner could wait when Alex bled over the chopping board. Practically speaking, Astra did everything necessary to soothe those aches whether it came in the form of new furniture arrangement or a bandage. Alex accepted those gestures as if they came from an acquaintance. But Astra had to go overboard with that gentle laughter and elaborate efforts to avoid shin bruises to the coffee table. She just had to use that practiced touch in applying a band aid and that faux disgruntled cluck of her tongue, as if her wife was an accident-prone child.

Try as she had, Alex couldn’t make those memories go away. Not when she felt responsible for destroying Astra’s good humor.

It wasn’t just the lack of smiles that Alex noticed lately. Before the affair became public, Astra devoted a wealth of attention to Alex. It showed in the dinners made from scratch, the inquiries into her work at the science lab, or the helping hand pushing a strand of hair in place. Every kindness Alex couldn’t discern before, now seeped out of Astra leaving her an emotionless shell. A shell that continued to eat, sleep, and show up at their shared living space in the evening hours.

The silence amplified Alex’s guilt. She would give anything to argue with Astra. The urge to rage at the top of her lungs overcame her whenever she sensed Astra’s muted presence. How could anyone be so blind as to think that they had had a happy marriage? That Alex hadn’t sought companionship with someone else? She wanted to make demands of Astra. For instance, why hadn't she challenged Talya? Kryptonian tradition must have some sort of ritual competition that settled disputes between rivals. Talya stole from Astra. Why wasn’t blood drawn? Why did Astra allow that goddamn lying witch to get away unpunished?

Thoughts like that startled Alex. They made her wonder if she was siding with Astra in all of this. After all, she had been the one to commit adultery. According to Astra, the penalty suited her crime.

The changes in Astra began during their last days on _Divivestnik_ and they stayed indefinitely. This woman who looked like Astra and sounded like Astra didn’t go back to normal. She didn’t return to smiley, affectionate, generous spouse. The about-face was rattling to say the least.

How did Alex cope? Crying. In her bed. A lot. Rest turned into a luxury sacrificed at every memory of pixie blonde hair. She couldn’t remember her last good night’s sleep. What she could remember reduced her to a sobbing wreck in fetal position. The love that beat so strongly within her when she had been in Talya’s arms, when she simply thought of her… that love disappeared. A sickening cavity remained. The quick transformation from one extreme to the other caused whiplash. Sometimes Alex wondered if that love had been there to begin with or if on some subconscious level, she manufactured it out of a need to escape her marriage.

One thing remained clear. Alex couldn’t trust herself anymore. Not with love, not with another woman. Not even with her own wife.

The rain outside drummed furiously against the window. Quick staccato beats of hail pelted the roof. Alex watched the water droplets slide down the glass as more followed in their path. She couldn’t see what went on beyond her own window. Sometimes she didn’t care.

Changes embroiled Fangshan by way of disunity among native peoples and power fluctuations between factions. Yet none of those changes befell Alex in her small corner of the world. It took living on a feuding planet for her to realize that the only true notion of those ten months had disappeared into thin air. And that it was too deeply suppressed to get it back.

All that compassion and free civility, the smile lines and the soft lounge wear had been disposed of, wiped clean. As if the energy spent paying Alex compliments was no longer worth it. Whatever remained made Astra colder and more distant. Months ago, Alex might have welcomed the change. The constant doting had driven her mad. Now, Astra’s despondent behavior opened a chasm between them. Alex knew she should be worried for her wife. Astra was in the midst of a war. Soldiers risked their lives every minute they spent on the field. Survival demanded a clear head.

But self-pity was eating a hole in Alex’s chest, leaving no room for concern. While her wife threw herself into a battle zone she might never return from, Alex was nursing wounds of her own making.

The urge to apologize did occur to her. Occasionally, she believed it might be enough to jostle Astra out of her daze. Surely, she would see the efforts taken. Looking back on past mistakes, however, and asking for forgiveness reopened old wounds. It took strength Alex didn’t have.

Alex shook her head and chastised herself every time she considered it. Expressing remorse over the affair wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Although Astra’s hurt was evident in the way she avoided contact, she didn’t lash out. She repressed her anger by not speaking, and if she did speak, it came in short remarks.

The sound of the rain lulled her back to their first week on Fangshan. The silence had been as excruciating as the boredom. It made her irritable and, inevitably, all that negativity came to a head.

One night, Alex had gone as far as dismissing Astra’s feelings for her.

_“I’m just another wife in a long line of trophy pieces you’ve collected. I am not the first and I won’t be the last. After I’m dead and gone you’ll just move on to the next young dimwit.”_

The moment the last word fell from her lips, Alex blinked in surprise. She had no idea where that came from. It wasn’t how she felt. It just… it came from a place of anger. Alex had been feeling so abandoned in that bungalow with nothing to do. She couldn’t blame Astra because Astra didn’t want her to get killed the instant she left the safety of the compound.

Often times stress made a person lose sight of themselves. Alex failed to take stock of the obvious. She let her resentment of Astra blind her from the protection being offered (notwithstanding the obtuse methods).

However much or little the outburst hurt Astra, she did not correct Alex. Her pride seemed to keep her anger in check. She got so quiet, it scared Alex. They retreated to their separate bedrooms that night, Astra first and Alex following after a devastating half hour rethinking her civility. Despite the venom in the words, she didn’t mean it. She had once despised Astra. Now, jilted and weary, her heart wasn’t in it anymore.

A break in the storm slowed the rainfall to a light shower. Alex hazarded a glance towards the living room. The fire continued to burn with a healthy intensity. It cast shadows on Astra’s face, bringing out the crinkle between her brows, the slight dimples in her chin, and the bob of her throat as she swallowed the news. The tablet quivered in her grip. Whatever she was reading must have added to her burden.

Remorse burned deep in Alex’s chest. She almost satisfied the urge to massage the place between her breasts, wincing like the pang was akin to heartburn. She wished it was. Anything but this sorrow she couldn’t comprehend. She so wished Astra would share, if only to loosen those worry lines. And ease this burning.

Lucy’s words the other day rose to the surface of her mind. They swam through her like bold wine, tempting her to take a chance.

_“You have no idea how lucky you are to have Astra…”_

Despite the inconveniences, Lucy and Alura had a stable relationship any couple would hope to live up to. They put the work into it, valuing honesty above all. They decided from the beginning that if one of them wanted out, they would meet in order to discuss the matter. If they did not come to a consensus, they would part ways. So far, their discussions proved fruitful. They enjoyed what the other had to say and shared in their enthusiasm for future plans. The time spent apart made the coming together so sweet.

Was that what Alex wanted with Astra? Not so much the distance as the substance. If so, did she dare hope for such an outcome? Against the obstacles they’d failed to overcome? The chances of going back and beginning again seemed slim. Astra would need to want it. They both would.

Alex chanced a glance in the direction of the living room. Astra continued to occupy the armchair, albeit more fidgety and morose than before.

“How bad is it?”

Astra’s head drifted up. She blinked in the fog of dissipating silence. “Pardon?”

Alex gestured to the device in her lap. “The reports. Is there news about a ceasefire?”

“Oh.” Astra’s gaze dropped to the tablet. She drew a quizzical frown and murmured, “I didn’t think you were interested.”

Before her feet had a chance to get cold, Alex left her perch at the window and found a place to sit in one of the armchairs. The fireplace radiated heat and gave a pattern of random pops. Her proximity to it caused a soothing warmth to cascade up her arm.

“I am,” she said, her fingers tapping a random pattern against the chair’s decorative, wood carved arm.

Sooner or later one of them would have to speak sentences longer than ten words. Last time she had to break the ice with Astra they ended up in bed together for the first time. Alex groaned internally. Not _that_ kind of ice breaking.

At Alex’s prompting brow raise, Astra put down her tablet and offered her undivided attention. “The chieftain taking charge of the government coalition has not expressed an interest in a stalemate. The other tribes’ leaders think differently. Of course, it is not up to them. Considering their low populations and limited resources, they do not have the authority to mount a defense much less a diplomatic commission.”

“Isn’t that the point of having a council? For representatives of a country to cooperate in decision making? If the chief has any plans to unite Fangshan against the rebels, he’ll need the support of the tribes.”

“Fangshan has not embraced democracy in the past,” explained Astra. She panned down to her reports before giving the room a once over. “One cannot expect them to value its doctrines overnight.”

“They don’t have to value democracy to generate a consensus. I’m not saying it’s a shortcut, but it does allow for options. In my opinion, some of the best democracies are those that don’t always broadcast that they are democracies.”

“That is a… unique way of putting it.”

Was that a compliment? Alex couldn’t tell by the way Astra broke her gaze every three words. In any case, this conversation wouldn’t last long if Alex picked it apart like one of her lab specimens.

Astra had returned to her data tablet. Judging by her faraway stare, she didn’t look to be giving it her full attention.

Alex tilted her head, a hunch and a curiosity getting the better of her. “Don’t you think it’s ironic?”

It could have been a trick of the light, but Alex swore she saw a twitch of a smile. The fire was burning low, its wood fuel shriveling within the brick alcove. Shadows or no shadows, she could still see it.

When Astra looked up again, any trace of amusement disappeared as she relaxed into the chair. This time, she took the inquiry with a frown too heavy to not be concealing a substance underneath.

She propped her elbow on the chair’s arm, thumb cradling her chin and index finger resting gently on her lip. “To what are you referring?”

“This war has two sides.” At Astra’s nod, Alex mentally patted herself on the back for drawing at least one conclusion correctly. “The affiliated members of one side consist of Fangshan’s largest and arguably most powerful tribe. The opposition, though, is led by a commander who defected from that same tribe. Isn’t it ironic that he’s fighting against the very same society he swore an oath to protect?”

“So, because of his betrayal he has no grounds for calling for a new system of rule?”

“No…” Alex held back, uncertain how she meant to interpret the situation. No one cared to ask her until now. “I’m not sure. I’m just making an observation. He renounced his friends, his family, their way of life. It seems impossibly risky to go to such lengths.”

Astra raised a brow. “How do you know those friends and family did not join him in his coup? The insurgents pose a credible threat. No revolution gains ground without a charismatic leader.”

“I suppose that means he has roguish good looks and charm.” The look of aghast made Alex smile. “Just kidding. I know not _all_ rebel leaders are the stuff of novels.”

“Sometimes I worry.”

Although the words came from a woman now remarkably fixated on the tablet in her lap, Alex picked up on the muttering. She admitted to herself how nice it sounded. It was nice to be worried about. By anyone. Not one person in particular.

“But do you think it’s possible for a disgraced commander to overturn the minds of his former tribe?”

A sardonic expression crinkled Astra’s mouth. “It happens more often than you think.”

The matter-of-fact way it had been said signaled a close to the subject. Alex almost felt bad for speaking up. Their first real conversation in months, and she had to bring up politics? And cracking jokes about a war endangering her wife’s life?

Alex sunk into her own sticky thoughts. Her behavior around Astra had been bugging her of late. She realized how fortunate she was. Since arriving on the planet, she’d seen the ugly side of war. And not just the death. The divides between families, the lost communiques, the ghastly injuries that made it difficult for one to look themselves in the mirror. These atrocities – the realities of fighting – were a part of the military life. Astra’s life. And experiencing these events even second-hand struck fear in Alex. This was what Astra had been doing for over one hundred years? How could she stand it? The grueling hours, the miserable conditions, the endless blows to their numbers…. Alex knew through word of mouth that the requests for additional ammunition, rations, and equipment were futile. Admiral Zhao oversaw more than a dozen operations around the galaxy. Philanthropic organizations still couldn’t make sense of the situation on Fangshan, one of a hundred planets in the throes of an everchanging power structure. Without adequate support from the UPL, for what reason did Astra endure it all? How could she still be the person she was and not go mad from misery?

_“I would give anything just to see Alura come home to me every night.”_

A heaviness like a stone plummeted in Alex’s stomach. She couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that statement released. For a split-second, she couldn’t remember the antagonism between them. All that surfaced to her mind about those ten months before the affair came in the form of hand squeezes and bold flavors and nightly spooning. However bizarre the rituals, they found a place in her memory. Alex couldn’t come to terms with it. Somehow, in the months she spent on Fangshan, she grew into a sense of wanting. She _wanted_ to understand what those gestures triggered in her.

But past mistakes prohibited that opportunity. The affair had revealed their disparate modes of behavior and this divide rivaled any alternative, however outlandish and however sweet the embrace. She couldn’t go back to the way things were, yet she couldn’t bear to take the leap forward.

“How long do you suppose the war will last?” Alex found herself asking.

A _crack-pop_ sputtered from the fireplace.

Astra sighed heavily and looked up with what looked like annoyance. “I don’t see why this conflict should captivate your attention. You haven’t seen it like most people have. Out there, principles of governance don’t have a place. Not everything is as sterile and straightforward as the hospital.”

Something small but promising wilted in Alex. She wouldn’t call it hope, not with the way Astra flattered her one minute and then hung her out to dry the next. The efforts made to encourage Astra to open up backfired.

“Look,” Alex showed her hands to emphasize a truce, “I know this war is a complex situation, but it’s not like I’m incapable of understanding. It’s not beneath me to step outside my castle walls and recognize the suffering of others. I’m not blind or wanting in compassion.”

“That’s not what I meant. You –“

“I what?” snapped Alex. She shot to her feet, hands clenching at her sides. “Go on and tell me who I am. What I’m worth to people like you and people out there.”

Astra’s gaze followed the fling of a hand toward the window where the wind was picking up speed. As the rain thrashed against the siding, a similar storm rumbled in Alex. Just as Astra’s mouth was opening to respond, a razor-like voice beat her to it.

“Save it. I’ve had enough of your superiority. Even your silence puts me in my place.” Alex ground her teeth, sick to death of her expectations being upended. She really couldn’t trust herself anymore. Accepting it made her nauseous. “For someone who claims to worry about me getting sick or shot or irradiated, you don’t miss a chance to insult me.”

The implication riled Astra enough to provoke her to her feet. She thrust her head forward, emphatic in her reply. “Will you stop talking for one minute? I only meant to point out your inexperience in these matters. It is not an insult. You are entitled to your opinions, baseless as some of them are.”

Alex’s temper flared. She grew hot in the cheeks. All the frustration kept locked inside for months split open. The turmoil involved in her work that she couldn’t talk about with her colleagues, couldn’t share with Astra, was coming out of her like a flood.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to have a chat? Three months spent ignoring me and you want to have a fight. _Fine_.” Alex threw her hands out and shouted, “Be my guest!”

A fragmentary pause had Astra’s head retreating back on her neck. “What has gotten into you?” she asked. “I thought your work at the hospital was diverting – _adequately_ diverting if not pleasing. You have not shared any of these concerns with me. Why now?”

The way Astra’s head titled made her look oddly discomforted. Alex hedged for a response, fighting the feeling of mutual discomfort.

“You’re not the only one who’s changed,” said Alex. A stinging pressure built behind her eyes. “I’m not the same naive woman you met on Earth. You should know better than anyone how a war changes people. I’ve seen things…” She took a gulp of air and choked over it. “The injuries that have come into the infirmary… Just a day ago I treated a private. He came in on a stretcher. There was no blood. No wounds I could see. But he wouldn’t stop screaming. He couldn't even speak. He just screamed vowels, nonsensically. We…” The lids of her eyes closed and there it was: memory as fresh as the horror. “W-we had to pin him down and keep him from…” Alex swallowed the bile at the back of her throat, “…from flaying his skin off by his own nails. No blaster bolt did that to him. No shrapnel. Only a weaponized toxin could inflict psychological damage like that.”

Hardly caring how Astra was taking this, Alex paused to regain her breath. When her hands ceased to shake, she cringed at a thought springing to her mind. “And you know what’s _ironic_ , General?” The sheer abomination made her tongue bitter and steeled her to meet Astra’s gaze. “The insurgents don’t have the technology to develop the gas, so it had to have come from the coalition government. Friendly fire, isn’t that what your people call it?”

The cautious look on Astra’s face angered her. What a time to tip toe around an issue like this. When she was out there robbing the lives of strangers. “Seeing someone rebel against their own body like that, it was sick. It… it _makes_ me sick. And it’s not just the soldiers. There are so many kids who come through. _Kids_ ,” she emphasized as if Astra didn’t believe her. “Orphaned babies. Sick kids who just want to play with their friends and hug their parents when they’re scared.” The pressure won. The tears broke. She felt her strength leave her in a sob and she bent over her clutched stomach and whimpered, “ _Shit.”_

Atom dismantled by atom. Or that was what it felt like. Shedding her skin, melting her mettle, and sucking the venom out of her. Now she knew what that private had felt. Soon, the screams crawled up her convulsing throat.

Every known profanity stormed out of her in burst like “Fuck! Shit! Goddamn it!” She didn’t feel her knees meet the floor, but the thump vibrated in her ears. Whatever fit she was experiencing, it didn’t seem likely to end. She didn’t even know who or what her curses were meant for. So many faces to accuse. So many entities deserving prosecution. Dizzy with bewilderment, Alex surrendered to the flood of emotions. The anger and hatred burned through her. The guilt and sorrow dragged her down, and she’d only feel respite if she could only be allowed to lay down and meet it. The loneliness of not being touched, being ignored and ridiculed caused Alex’s mouth to groan a choked plea.

It couldn’t have reached an adequate decibel. It couldn’t because a response was being made. The sound of her name whispered out of the corner of her mind. The past came rushing back…

 _“Alex_.”

The pressure of a hand in hers.

 _“Alexandra_ …?“

Suddenly, reality came rushing back. Rain pattered the roof. Flames licked the brick hearth. She opened her eyes and found herself sitting slouched on the floor with her head resting on the armchair cushion. Its plush surface dried her tears as good as any tissue. And if the warmth of the rug didn’t ground her, the hand covering her own did. She squeezed her eyes shut. Hard. She didn’t dare open them; instead, focusing on the feel of upholstery pressing against her cheek.

“How do you do it?” she rasped, the mystery of it scrapping her throat. “It’s horrible. They won’t leave me. They won’t let me forget. So many of them were in the wrong place at the wrong time. How is that an excuse? _Tell_ _me_ ,” she growled, eyes flung open and glaring at the orange flames, “how do you live with yourself?”

“I’m going to call a shuttle. Jack can be here within the week.”

“What?” Alex lifted her head and swung around to follow the pathetic voice to its source.

“I’m sorry I brought you here.” Astra’s anguish returned. It filled the furrow between her brows, deepening by the word. “It was wrong.”

“What the fuck?” Alex tossed Astra’s hand away as if it seared her skin. “How dare you! How dare you pull me into this war – when it suited your jealousy – and then rip me away when I just started to understand what it means! I know what I’m worth now and I’m not going to let you fuck it up. Not when my work has purpose.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you. Not anymore.”

“So you admit it? You were punishing me. And now that you’ve successfully broken me, you can’t stand to look at this mess you’ve made. You can’t stand anyone knowing you have a sobbing wreck for a wife.”

Astra implored with a shaking of her head. “It’s not safe here.”

“It never was safe, Astra. Not on the _Divivestnik_ and not on this damned planet.”

“What do you want? Do you want me on my knees pleading for forgiveness?”

Astra’s jaw muscles tightened. Her features glowed finely in the firelight. Bloody reds and pinks, golden wheat and spiced turmeric. Like a woman who could flip pancakes in the mornings and lead armies in the evenings.

Alex swallowed. What did she want? Alura and Lucy loved from afar. Jack committed himself to companions who came and went. J’onn assumed responsibility for his race as he had for his long-departed family.

Alex sucked in a deep breath and became woozy upon its release. But she didn’t care. The words were already fleeing from her cruel judgement.

“I want you to talk to me,” she said. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me things… about the weather, the war, what’s for dinner. About you.”

A frustrating minute passed wherein Astra remained mute. She searched Alex’s face, noticing how her cheeks turned from red blotches to pale dread. Her gaze dragged up to the mussed strands out of place, making Alex feel self-conscious.

A loathsome sensation raked through her. She curled her feet up and diverted her gaze to the threading in the rug. “Say something.”

Astra noisily breathed in through her nostrils before letting it out in a rush. Without further hesitation, she lowered herself to the floor and crossed her legs. Like Alex, she propped herself against her own armchair. They sat facing each other, a few feet of space filled with misunderstanding and circumstance and a whole lot of the unsaid.

“I am one hundred and forty-eight years of age.”

“Yes. I know.”

Astra mirrored the nod. “That may be. However, you do not know how I passed that time. What has been experienced in a lifespan such as mine…” She lowered her eyes to the hand resting on her knee, but the stare looked past the chafing thumb and forefinger. It might have gone beyond Fangshan, into another star system and time.

Alex sensed the slight tremble of her throat and hoped the hesitation wasn’t for her sake.

“We don’t have to do this,” she insisted. “We can forget about this and call it a night.” She chewed her bottom lip before chancing it again. “I called you brave once. At that idiotic party. If you’re up to it, I think I’d like to be proven right for a change.”

A grin softened Astra’s color to a deep rouge. Then, as if prompted by an intimate, she began in an unhurried voice.

“At one time, I had been assigned to an impossible instructor. I made the mistake of breaking her record in my first year of flight school…”


	10. Casualties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: violence and physical trauma.
> 
> I'm back, fair readers! Apologies for the hiatus. I've been stuck on the ending and haven't had the motivation to unstick myself. Thankfully, I've dug myself out of my rut. Without further ado, let us dispense with formalities. I can't wait for you all to read the continuing anguish of Alex and Astra. Kidding!
> 
> ...Or am I?

The major advantage of residing on a planet in the far reaches of the galaxy? No parties. The major downside? No parties.

The truth universally known to every individual who breathed in the same vicinity as Alex held that she hated socializing with strangers. She’d seen her fair share of them, and then some. In hindsight, she would have warmed up to the occasional dinner party if they had led to a promising future. Schmoozing ran through the blood vein of academia like an infection. The obligatory social engagements on Earth afforded more headaches than job offers. More often than not, the frequency of marriage proposals outnumbered career opportunities. It wasn’t her fault that she looked good in a dress. Her mother apparently had good taste. Maybe those suitors should have asked for Eliza’s hand. 

Alex could think of better ideas to spend her evenings than playing the part. But the grass was always greener. Fangshan was not Earth. Alex was no longer a girl dodging greasy flirts and eating straight from take-out containers. For however cranky she might get at the thought of social mingling, she craved news from the outside.

Lonely bitterness engulfed Alex. Thank god they had access to the outside world. Being wife to a general in the Kryptonian Guard had its perks. One being satellite communications. From her computer, Alex received all manner of news bulletins and entertainment streams. It sufficed to say that a good network connection went a long way in distracting from present circumstances.

Since landing on Fangshan, the _Divivestnik_ remained close by. Although Jack had been busy shuttling soldiers around at the orders of Admiral Zhao, he still reserved time for Alex in video communications. She was relieved to know Jack didn't consider her an asshole of a friend. At least, not much of an asshole. Thankfully, Jack spared no hard feelings. He checked in on her from time to time, asking after her living conditions, getting updates on the war, and spoiling her of last week’s television episode. They didn’t talk about Astra, so it wasn’t known whether Jack extended the same gesture to her. A gesture Alex didn’t take for granted now.

In addition to receiving updates on _Divivestnik’s_ adventures in the Delta Quadrant, Alex sent messages to Jack in an effort to abate the melancholy. He always had a way of cheering her up. Although they couldn’t engage in billiards or drink themselves into spilling embarrassing childhood secrets, they still had the ability to speak to one another. But instead of receiving the kind of upbeat antics and juicy ship gossip he was known for, Jack gave her some unexpected advice. He encouraged her to find an outlet for these pressures. She needed a hobby, so to speak.

Alex had a lot to be thankful for – her health, the vitality of her parents, instant noodles, and Jack. Were it not for his persistence, Alex would not have found a place for herself at the hospital. And it wasn’t a matter of right place, right time. She put the effort into learning the fly-by-the-seat-of-one’s-pants procedures known to combat medicine. She worked hard and made herself valuable.

That day, she fired off a message to Jack via satellite. Little did she know, it would be a long time before she sent another. Events on Fangshan were reaching a breaking point. Negotiations to call a ceasefire had failed. The territory being defended by the Kryptonian Guard was being overrun. More combat medics were needed to dress wounds and transport the critically injured to safety. Alex had witnessed the waves of soldiers stumbling into the tent and leaving red boot prints in their wake. Some came in with one limb short. Others none at all. The anarchy out there mirrored the glazed-over surface of their eyes.

Alex didn’t have to see her patients to understand what they had faced. It wasn’t hard to miss the echo of explosive charges. The ground shook after every detonation. Every hour that went by, the sounds of war crept nearer. No one knew if the camp would have to pack up and retreat to safer ground. The only person on the ground who could make that call was in the thick of it. General In-Ze had yet to check in with base camp in over an hour. But she had her hands full. Alex knew very well what she was dealing with because Astra had become her shadow.

< _Incoming!_ >

“ _Down! Down! Down!_ ”

The ground spat dirt in every direction. Alex turned away from the blast, although not soon enough to avoid the pelting debris. Gravel stung her neck and cheeks. She groaned in frustration. Would it all just stop? She could barely see through the hailstorm of dirt let alone hear the orders being barked at her.

From twelve feet away, Astra sat crouched behind the supports of what was once a building. Although the war's main engagements were held in jungle regions, every so often they would stumble upon a structure that had once been meant for communications. Frequent bombings reduced the buildings to debris, rendering them useless for shelter or for providing cover. If you were lucky, the remains of these structures were just stable enough to shield you from explosive projectiles.

Persistent fire and falling debris had mangled Astra’s cover so extensively it barely sufficed as cover. Nevertheless, she used every means at her disposal to keep the enemy from gaining ground. The rifle in her grip was smoking from the muzzle. Alex stared warily at the overheated weapon. Sooner or later it would need a new charge, one Astra’s empty ammo pockets may not provide.

“Remain at your position until I give you the signal. When my lieutenant returns with his unit, they will lay down suppressive fire for our retreat.”

“Fuck this!" shouted Alex. "I’m not going to sit here waiting to be blown up!”

“Look at me,” snapped Astra. She stared hard as if willpower alone fastened Alex to her. “Don’t you dare move. Your cover will keep you secure – unless you move out of it. Understood?”

Another impact kicked up dirt. The _wong-wong_ echo of flying durasteel might have sounded melodic in other circumstances. Jagged pieces sliced through the plume of smoke.

Alex gave a shriek and hit the ground. She stayed as low as humanly possible. When the sound of blaster bolts faded, she rolled onto her shoulder and pushed herself upright with the upmost caution. She pressed her back into the heavy metal plating she had dove behind earlier. She dug her heels in, pushing herself up inch by inch. Just enough to get a view of their goal.

The gray tented peaks of medical camp poked up behind the tree line. Alex closed her eyes and hoped those bombs didn’t have the range. The missiles were a new tactic enforced by the insurgents, and the hell if it wasn’t overkill. The surprise assault had pushed Astra’s forces back at an exponential rate. All the territory they gained had been lost within an hour. They could not do much to prohibit the bombings. With every impact, Astra had to signal a retreat to safer ground. With every bomb, Guardsmen were forced nearer to a last resort. Alex couldn’t see how. The hospital didn’t offer weapons (unless you counted hydrogen peroxide and bone saws).

The canvas tents that had sheltered Alex for these past months looked like heaven. But the sound of battle ringing in her ears reminded her that heaven lied a long way off. Any number of accidents might foil an evacuation. Felled trees could crash into camp, rendering her only refuge beyond the compound to disrepair. Alex’s face fell as she sank into a state of utter misery. They were fucked.

“I’m fucked.”

“Alex.”

“ _What_ , damn it?!”

“You are a medic. You are trained for this.”

If Alex had her wits about her, she might have glossed over the vote of confidence. It wasn’t like Astra to go out of her way to make her feel useful. Right? Alex shook her head, unable to tell the difference between past-Astra and present-Astra. The fear of being incinerated, decapitated, and flung in several bits at once had rattled her. She bit her lip hard enough to numb the dread and hazarded another look. Astra’s serious expression implied a fervor of dedication. Why now? Why when they were inches from death? She clung to Astra’s stare, feeding off its persistence. Half in a daze, she wondered when Astra would say something nice again before realizing there was a reason for the pause. 

“Alright.” Alex gulped down a breath stinking of smoke and panic. “Alright. I’m okay now. I’m not moving.”

“Good. Now listen carefully. When I give the signal, I want you to –”

A barrage of blaster fire cut Astra off. They both ducked. Shouts of <cover!> in Kryptonese and Fangshanian “get down!” hailed from nearby. Alex didn’t think she could shrink deeper behind cover. The erratic _thwip-thwip_ of plasma pinged off the plating above her head. Her nostrils seemed to wither at the acrid scent of singed durasteel.

“Shit.” Animosity carved into her expression as she growled, “I’m a goddamn medic not a soldier. Does _no one_ see the vest?”

The sound of radio static intermingled with a clicking comms piece. Astra held the portable device to her mouth, lips close enough to kiss the mic. <What is your position?>

Alex winced against more blaster fire. She couldn’t make out the Kryptonese crackling over the radio. An explosion rocked the battlefield. A combination of fire and smoke fumes was followed by the sickening sound of splitting tree bark. While the air raids flew harmlessly by, the forest was being ripped to shreds.

<Damn.>

Astra clipped the radio to her shoulder. The tactical vest bulged with pouches and zippers and tools swinging from their attachments. She braced the butt of her rifle to her shoulder, hands finding a sufficient grip, and peeked from around the corner. The concrete pylon serving as shelter dusted her back and shoulders with powder as blaster fire hacked away at it. One bolt, which could only be described as a particle beam, fractured a top piece which fell crumbling into bits varying in mass from chestnuts to head-size blocks.

Alex hated to state the obvious but she had time to kill. “Your cover is disintegrating.”

“Yes.”

Undaunted, Astra scouted the field. The distance between them and the next wave of insurgents couldn’t be measured by the naked eye (even Kryptonian ones), so she extracted a pair of binoculars from her belt.

“They’re not coming, are they?”

Astra trained the binoculars for a moment longer before looking to her. The sigh could have passed for relief if they weren’t stuck in no man’s land. It was more of a sigh of resignation. Then, as if catching herself, she retreated back behind her wall. “It’s possible our communications are being jammed. I have no confirmation yet on the status of reinforcements.”

Of course she wouldn’t admit defeat. She was too good for that. Alex had half a mind to go over there and slap her. What a stubborn, idiotic Kryptonian she married. But safety first. Slap later.

A vibration rattled the ground. Another drone flew by, this time releasing a lone projectile. Just one.

Alex stared at the pinprick closing in. It was coming in at such an angle that made it difficult to calculate its mark. Strafe right or left? Dive forward or back? Any direction would leave her open to sniper fire. The incoming missile sailed as quiet as a dove through the air. She would have to make up her mind.

In a split-second decision, Alex leapt for the general ordering her to do no such thing. It was too late and the distance proved further than she realized. Alex landed in a dusty cloud of dirt – in full view of insurgent scopes.

Alex scrambled to her knees before she had a chance to curse her stupidity. Plasma whizzed by, one bolt grazing her thigh while a dozen others sizzled harmlessly past. About two feet from the concrete pylon, Astra crawled low but swiftly forward, snatching a handful of that useless vest and yanking Alex behind cover.

She landed hard on her back, the force of the fall knocking the wind out of her. She coughed on the dirt clouding the air. Boiling pain spread through her leg where the blaster shot grazed her.

“Wha…?” she blinked, trying to regain her bearings.

“Stay down!”

The gasps were breathy and fearful. They shot an ache point blank at Alex’s chest. It rivaled the sharp sting in her leg which ranked pretty low on the priority list at the moment.

“What? I don’t –“

“Alex!”

She didn’t hear the buzzing of another air raid. Her ears were muffled with the sound of panting. Hers? She couldn’t see anything but whirling contours of debris. The pain in her chest and leg, whether from breathlessness or plasma burn, incapacitated her ability to see the shapes blotting out the light.

Just as she rose to her knees another bout of vertigo hit. But its impact hardly compared to the blunt force slamming into hers.

She landed on her stomach with a startled, “oof!” A distinct weight pressed onto her as the barrage went on and on unending. Blasts reverberated through the earth. Plaster, concrete, dirt, and sickly blue grass rained down. Course hair blanketed her cheeks and panting breaths made her neck sweltering hot. The only pleasant sensation came as a cradling hand to her head.

It seemed as though it took a full hour for the detonations to end. When the quakes faded, so did the weight on her back. Alex blinked against the fumes and pushed the hair strands from her face.

“Are you alright?”

Her hand registered the company and subsequent pull. Alex squeezed the hand in return and rose to a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I’ll be as right as an Argo sunrise when we get you to safety.”

Astra looked down at her with eyes fraught with anxiety. The crinkles at their corners were deeper than the craters created by missile fire. No gun. No radio. She looked stripped of rank. Consciously abandoned from alliance. And obedient to no one but the pitiful state of a woman she was gripping by the hands. Not even the soot could mask the dismay on her face. Alex couldn’t remember seeing a paler expression on a person. It terrified her, being at the exclusive attention of a woman of power when Astra had a responsibility to the war going on around them.

But she looked so beautiful. So soft and uncertain. Silent to the unsaid, not in spite of the wound. In commemoration of the early days of their marriage. Alex’s heart expanded up into her throat.

“A-Astra,” she croaked. Smoke watered her eyes as she took in the condition of her Kryptonian shield. Although Astra had taken the brunt of the blast, she came away harmless, albeit rattled. Whatever Alex might say on behalf of the swelling in her throat left her dumbfounded.

She swallowed, fighting a grimace at the watery lump returning to its home. This was so not the time to acquire feelings or contemplate their repercussions.

A rousing litany of shouts severed their attentions like a razor to taught thread. They turned towards movement not far away. A body of soldiers moving as one rushed the rebel insurgents hiding behind their walls. The Martian Marauders. Nothing deterred their sprinting pace. They went on hollering, raising their electro staffs and blasters, and peeling across the battlefield as if for sport.

“Now’s our chance,” said Astra. She grabbed Alex by the arms and hauled her to her feet. “Go!”

A second wind filled Alex. Scientific jargon aside, the adrenaline from her near-death experience shot through her limbs, fueling them with energy to burn. Her boots clopped the ground. She dodged debris and the dead. As heartless as it seemed to leave them behind, this was no time to retrieve the fallen. Astra was of a similar mind. She followed closely behind, her breaths coming fast and the sound of her uniform chaffing to the pace.

 _Don’t stop_ , Alex thought. _Don’t stop or you're dead._

Soon the trees threw shadows over them. The scent of disinfectant wafted in the air. Chattering voices grew and became more distinct. The flaps of the hospital tent came into view and it was the sweetest sight Alex had ever seen. She came to a grinding halt and keeled over. They had made it. Astra closed in beside her, panting yet calm as a cucumber. Alex didn’t have the heart to roll her eyes, so instead she planted her hands to her knees and gulped in that fresh fucking forest air.

“Where the hell have you been?” In true Lucy Lane fashion, she articulated it in such a way that made a normal decibel sound imperious. She marched up to them, harried expression in place. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago. If something had happened to you, the general would have cut me down to the size of a microbe.”

Astra cleared her throat and, as if that wasn’t emphasis enough, stepped out from behind Alex.

Lucy seemed to swallow the “oh” hanging on the tip of her tongue. She bowed her head in apology. “Good to see you in one piece, General. Both of you.” Her eyes narrowed once again as she addressed Astra. “It appears as though your wife is in need of care. Would you like me to arrange a private bedside for –?”

“That is not necessary.”

The present conversation distracted Alex from the pain screaming up her leg. She raised her brow. She knew Lucy had an edge, but to sharpen it against a ranking officer? It might have come across as a dig, or as a suggestion in forceful disguise. Either way, Alex didn’t need anyone fighting her battles. If there was any chance of mending the rupture in her marriage, it lied in the hands of those who exchanged the rings.

Astra walked in close to Alex, making an effort to impress upon any onlookers of their _private_ conversation. “I must regain contact with my battalion.”

The sound of blaster fire could still be heard in the distance. Every shot rang, telling a tale of burnt flesh or broken bone. Alex knew better than to think Astra would shirk her duties now.

She nodded, rubbing her own arms against the sudden isolation raising her skin. “They need you. Go.”

Astra looked her over, lips pressing against something. “You can make yourself useful here until I return?”

“Assuming I’m not resting in full patient regalia.”

“I know you won’t. Why waste my breath trying to convince you?”

Alex smiled, just a little. No one was going to stop her from doing some good around here, regardless of her leg wound. And yet an intrigued part of her wanted to hear the fight coming from Astra’s mouth. Wanted to be convinced, if only to do right by her wife. For a change.

* * *

Even while wearing a watch, measuring time became a struggle. Sometimes the minutes flew by. Often, a plethora of medical jargon clouded her head to an impenetrable fog. One time she looked up from her work and glanced out the tent’s opening only to reel from the sudden darkness cloaking the forest. It could have been hours and she wouldn’t have witnessed their passing.

Then there were the moments that crawled by. She hated the minutes spent looking for an answer to her prayers, from her damn watch to the horizon of returning survivors to Lucy’s goddamn sympathetic face.

No matter how much time had passed since parting ways with Astra, Alex spent most of it assisting doctors. As promised, she refused to expend her energy being laid up in bed. There was no stopping Lucy from examining her leg, though. The hypospray injection Alex received adequately relieved the pain and swelling caused by the plasma graze. Frankly, she had felt better. The nausea, headache, and fatigue nearly sucked the life from her. Lucy had to physically walk her out into the fresh air before her sterile hospital was contaminated by more vomit. After heaving her empty stomach, Alex had dabbed her forehead, slapped her cheeks, and leapt back into the action.

Using the beds for support made it easy to hobble from Point A to Point B. An influx of injured threatened the hospital’s ability to provide care to every soldier. Even the medics were being hauled in on stretchers. There were so many bedridden, Alex took advantage of their clustered formations by gripping the bedposts and rails as she took temperatures, drew blood, and patted shoulders.

Every wounded soldier brought in caused Alex’s worry to mount. They were losing so many people. The faces by now were becoming hauntingly familiar; some having already paid their dues in treatment before returning to the fight, only to be carried into the tent again. The looks on their faces… It was impossible not to sympathize. The odds weighed them down. The battle was being lost. Chief among them being their fearless general. Where was she? No one knew. The last time anyone sighted her, she had been maintaining front-line operations. Because the Guard was acting as support to the regime’s newly trained fighters, they had a responsibility to fight (for some, to the death) alongside the Fangshani. Astra had been commanding from behind a hastily dug trench, sending her soldiers to push back the line. According to the corporal who observed the siege, their unit had been making steady progress until an air raid flew over their position.

The corporal arrived nearly an hour following the drone assault. She was rushed into the medical tent babbling and flailing. It didn't take a microscope to see that she had taken debris to the head. The bleeding gash left her somewhat incoherent. She had seized once and threatened to stab someone if the persistent medic with a limp wouldn’t stop interrogating her. Alex couldn’t be sure whether to rely on her account. If Astra’s unit _had_ been pinned down by missile fire, there would be no helping them. The likelihood of fresh reinforcements was a pipe dream. If a UPL commander received the recent situation report, they would accept a loss when they saw one. It wasn’t to their advantage to waste resources on a losing battle. Winning the war counted for more. Even if it meant forsaking one of their most dedicated officers.

But Astra was still out there. And at least thirty from her unit had gone missing with her. Alex knew she had no right to feel sick to her stomach at the idea of becoming a widow. There had been a time (a time that felt so long ago it could have been a dream) that she hoped it would happen, that a blaster bolt would find its mark. After all, Astra threw herself into her work so devotedly it always seemed like she was begging for death. From the deepest, infinitesimal recesses of Alex’s mind the hope festered. So small back then, but just lucid enough for her to hate the person she had been.

Alex’s stomach churned. She dropped the scalpel in her hand. It clattered to the operating table.

“You okay?”

As the surgeon continued the procedure without pause, two of the medics assisting looked up. They had all been through hell the past three months. Working and sometimes living in the same cramped spaces for that long caused tensions to mount. Spats were common. But they supported one another, namely by taking over someone’s duties when the pressure threated to crack them. They knew their limits. And Alex’s.

“Can you finish up for me?” asked Alex.

She was already backing away from the table and peeling off her gloves. Their reply sounded hollow in her ears. Her hip bumped into a bed as she turned away. The urgency swelled up, compelling her to move regardless of obstacles.

When the cold air hit her face, she didn’t stop. Trees groaned on their roots as their grassy veils flapped in the breeze. A nighttime silence closed around her. She finally stopped in an untrampled meadow. If she turned, she would have seen the bright flashes of grenades against the blackness. But no explosions accompanied them, and she hadn’t the heart to turn back. It was so quiet out there. Where was everyone? Why could she not hear the blaster fire? The bombs? The screaming?

“God –“

Alex’s hand cut off the expletive before it had a chance to carry. Her other hand shot out to find purchase against the nearest tree. Sagging against its smooth surface, she allowed her heart to cave in.

If it wasn’t for her, Astra wouldn’t be missing. Alex might have saved her if she hadn’t been so selfish, so impossibly unsatisfied that she sought to hurt herself and everyone around her, and then justified it by citing the need for freedom. If she hadn’t behaved so recklessly, maybe if she had listened to Jack and confessed, there would not have been reason for them to be on Fangshan to begin with. Whatever fate awaited Astra out there had to be worse than what would have transpired if Alex treated their vows with a modicum of respect, or even told Astra on the _Divivestnik_ in the last bed they shared. It was her fault. All of it.

Her breathing came in stunted gasps that shook her ribcage. She bit down on her lip to keep from sobbing and dug her nails into tree bark hard enough to hear the clawing. In this moment, Talya’s duplicity couldn’t compare to the guilt tearing through Alex’s insides. She didn’t have it in her to blame the other woman.

The worst of it hit Alex like jagged shrapnel through her gut: if Astra didn’t come back, the chance to repair the damage she’d sown would be lost. Alex touched her forehead to the tree. Its cool surface conflicted with the heat radiating from her skin. She closed her eyes, willing her body to relax. If she didn’t find a semblance of composure, she’d pass out right there in the middle of nowhere.

But composure was not an easy thing to grasp. Alex couldn’t stop thinking of worst-case scenarios and superhuman acts of stupidity. In the time she had spent mending soldiers alongside Astra on the battlefield, she had seen a side of the general everyone spoke so highly of, and she realized how wrong an impression she had drawn. Once, Alex had thought Astra vain and arrogant. The elegantly dressed soldier she had tried to avoid at that party on Earth seemed to value orders over rational thinking. And on the rooftop, Astra’s body hummed and her eyes had illuminated to a hastily constructed fantasy.

Perceptions, however, could have flaws too. Despite how certain Alex felt in her conclusions, she allowed her prejudice to blind her from the sacrifices people like Astra made in war. And away from it. Astra cared more about her soldiers than the outcome of this war.

Astra might die thinking her wife resented her – when Alex felt the exact opposite. Where hate had filled her to the brim before, now a substance that could only be attributed to admiration replaced it.

“Alex!”

The shout accompanied a harsh trill of panic. Alex turned from her support tree to see one of her colleagues waving from the tent’s opening.

“Come quick!”

She hurried. When the doorway flaps parted for her, several heads turned to her in response. They were soldiers. Mud caked their boots. Their uniforms were soiled from sweat and rumpled by action. It didn’t take a genius to conclude that they had recently experienced combat. Alex fought a shudder at the rancid smell they carried in.

Then she saw a head she recognized. Lucy was bent over one of the stretchers brought in by the soldiers in their midst. Alex didn’t have it in her to get her hopes up. Either way, they’d be dashed to smithereens. Whether one returned home on a stretcher or off it, Alex would prefer the latter.

“Lucy, what can I do?”

She headed for a wash basin, a purpose in her stride and her game face on. The water must have been recently changed because it scalded her hands. She barely winced.

When Lucy didn’t answer, a thorn of worry sprouted. The smell of blood reeked. Quick snips from a scissors accompanied the tearing of clothing. The people around them just stood there, not speaking, not _helping_. Was this a hospital or a lounge?

“Out of the way,” she snapped at the nearest vacant expression. Bodies parted with a sympathy she didn’t understand until her eyes landed on the limp form of their general. “Astra?”

The noise fell unbidden from her. It didn’t even sound like her. She lurched toward the stretcher that had been haphazardly heaved onto a table. Astra was still as a rock with her head turned away. Why was she motionless when they had brought her into a hospital and not the tent reserved for those killed in action? A numbness spread through Alex’s lips so fast she couldn’t get anything else out.

“I’ve seen worse,” said Lucy while she focused on cutting away the uniform. It seemed like overkill considering the already tattered pieces. No one could lay blame on anything other than the shard of glass-like material sticking out of Astra’s side.

Beside herself with questions, Alex swallowed her dread for later. “We can’t examine her properly here.” She looked up to catch the attention of a soldier. “What’s your name?”

“Private Nev-Dur, ma’am.” He had the sense to keep his cool long enough to remember himself. “I’m with the 63rd. We… we’re the ones who brought the general in. Communications from Command finally got through and they ordered a retreat. She was leading the last of us to a safe route through the gorge when an IED exploded and…”

The rest of his account was interrupted by the sound of a moan. The patient moved.

“Shrapnel,” explained Lucy. She stood up and motioned for extra hands. “Let’s get her to a bed. We’ll disinfect the area and palpitate before removing it.”

Despite the aghast on the private’s face, he was standing closest to the general’s side and seemed keen on returning a favor.

Alex pointed out the nearest bed to him. “Elevate that bed. Use the blue button on the side.”

Two doctors slipped in to assist Lucy while the other medics urged the congregation of soldiers to wait outside. When they lowered Astra onto the bed, her head lolled to the side giving Alex a view of her pallor.

“ _Easy_ ,” rumbled Astra. Instead of lazily roving from sleep, her eyes snapped to Lucy. She didn’t look pleased at being handled like deadweight.

The shock of seeing her conscious in this state choked the words from Alex.

“Okay,” sighed Lucy, she narrowed her eyes at the foreign object. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

Where Alex’s eyes had combed over the body before, now she couldn’t tear her gaze from the green shard. It looked oddly beautiful – in a dangerous, ethereal kind of way. It seemed to swallow the lamplight and horde it for itself. Instead of reflecting, it just… Alex couldn’t find any other way of describing how it worked besides glowing under its own power. The jagged piece rose and fell slowly to Astra’s breathing. Alex nearly forgot to breathe (perhaps subconsciously saving the air for those that needed it more). The shard bit into skin with every inhale. Astra’s brow was perpetually wrinkled and the expletives were set between her teeth. The debris didn’t care how much discomfort it inflicted on this shuddering, pale life.

On the outside, Alex felt dazed. Inside, she fumed. How could anyone create something like that? And to conceal it inside a bomb? The bastards that had used it must have known their victim and how they would respond physiologically to the weapon. The shrapnel exerted its effect to startling results.

“Argh!” cried Astra. She wrenched herself away from probing hands.

“Stop moving, General, or I’m going to have you restrained.”

“Enough of this! Just pull it out!”

“I can’t. Not when I don’t know where its penetrated. If it’s so much as nicked an organ, removing it would do more damage.”

“It won’t d-do any less damage re-remaining inside me!”

“Astra…” Lucy’s glowering turned to scrutiny at the shivering. “Look at me. Right here. Good.” Astra’s eyes danced like opposing magnets in her sockets. Whatever assessment Lucy had come to, spurred her head to snap up. A dreadful pause kept their gazes locked. “I think it’s blood –“

“Poisoning.” Alex’s eyes widened with Lucy’s. The dread she had reserved for later washed over her like a tempest. “Jesus, she’s right. You need to get that thing out of her. Now!”

“Someone get me a transfusion line!”

Lucy’s bark set everyone in motion, even the soldiers lingering against orders. Beds were pushed to make way for the carts of supplies being wheeled in. The heads of bedridden patients turned to the flurry of activity. Doctors exchanged orders in rapid fire succession. Passing bodies bumped into each other without the slightest warning or apology.

A nurse entered with a cooler marked “Kryptonian.” Alex knew from her studies that Kryptonian blood type varied across six different groups from rare to common. The likelihood that their hospital retained an adequate volume of Astra’s blood type to supplement what would be lost in a procedure was not good.

Alex rummaged through the packs of dark, red-tinted fluid. The cool, squishy bags yielded to her fingers. The longer she searched, the harder it was to breathe. Her heart beat so fast it made her chest ache. The pained groans didn’t help the situation.

Finally, she found them: a set of three bags – four for good measure. She snatched them up and prepared them for the transfusion process.

Her hands moved as if on auto pilot. She’d done this countless times. Nothing went awry before. Why should it now? The only snag she met in the past was not having enough knowledge of the patient to determine their blood type. In these circumstances, though, she had plenty of background.

“I’ve never seen sepsis take effect this fast,” Lucy muttered. Cotton pads were stuffed around Astra’s torso. She worked methodically but urgently. She stole furtive glances at Astra, measuring the progress of her condition from behind her lashes. “You’re lucky we have your blood type in reserve. Our last supply drop was two weeks ago.”

Alex’s fingers twitched and the catheter she was holding slipped. She quickly picked up a sterile replacement before anyone saw. Despite the wide berth people were giving her, she didn’t feel at risk of being dismissed. No one could have done what she was doing. When Lucy called for a transfusion, Alex moved as if a fire had been lit under her. Her mind leapt to the first memory that surfaced. No one could have known.

She wiped the perspiration from her brow, remembering when she first learned of Astra’s blood type during one of their fireside chats. This wasn’t the first time Astra had been prepped for surgery. The general had experienced close shaves before and escaped alive although a little worse for wear and a couple of pints of blood down.

A mournful hiccup threatened to escape. Alex swallowed it down before she made a fool of herself. Astra’s life might very well depend on her being useful.

“Alright. Let’s begin.”

Using forceps, Lucy extracted the smaller shards, gradually working her way to the larger pieces. One of them must have snagged because Astra arched off the table with a scream.

Alex drew closer only to clutch the bedsheet. Every molecule in her begged to reach out and comfort Astra. It was unbearable to watch. Astra’s anger didn’t just stem from being treated like a patient but from not having control. Her body wrenched against the poison filling her veins. Her lips screwed shut against another cry and tears leaked from her eyes. Agony made terrifying work of that face. Alex had known it to be expressive in times of reprieve and affectionate without hesitation. Then there were the times it could be deceptive, protective of feelings beneath. Now, the glowing shards were leaching that strength and warping Astra’s glow.

While Lucy’s debridement proceeded, the hospital resumed its work around them. The atmosphere had returned to its original chaotic organization in chatter from soldiers and puzzled patients, medics scurrying in with more wounded, doctors shouting orders, Lucy grunting in effort with a stubborn shard, Astra crying out…

Alex whispered, “I’m here.”

She couldn’t make her voice work above the racket. Her hand crawled across the bed until the backs of her fingers brushed Astra’s arm. Any other time the material of that uniform would have felt uncomfortably abrasive, but all Alex felt was softness. She closed her eyes against another groan and pinched the sleeve.

It took forever. Or seemed to. While Lucy applied gauze to the bleeding, the mother of all shrapnel still remained fixed in Astra’s side. How did it enter so deeply? She must have been in the near vicinity of the explosion to be caught in its soaring fragments. God, she should be dead. The impact could have killed her. How might anyone in that situation react?

Alex tried not to ponder what Astra had been thinking at the time. She hadn’t been supportive before. She’d barely scrounged up the effort to be a friend. Now the necessity lay blatant before her and she felt the nerve rise up in her.

_Get your shit together. Be the wife she married._

The next scream became garbled. Astra tossed her head, sobbing out at the slightest touch from Lucy’s gloved hands. She sucked in a sharp gasp, eyes flying open and searching the roof of the tent. Panic and confusion quickened her breath.

<Rao, damn you. What’s – _Ahh! >_

Lucy grimaced to the arm knocking into her head. She batted her aside, eyes never leaving the green shard. “Hold still. You’re just causing yourself more pain.”

“What is… why am I so cold? Where am I?”

The confusion muddling Astra was terrifying to behold. An even disturbing need to run away from it had Alex stepping back.

“Please, make it stop. _Noo!_ ”

Alex seized the hand in midair and brought it down to the bed. “You’re in a medical tent on Fangshan,” she explained. There was no room in her heart to be startled by the clear, crisp voice. She gripped the sweating fist in both hands. “Lucy’s here. She’s removing shrapnel you took in an IED. It’s almost over. Hold on.”

“Keep talking,” said Lucy, taking advantage of the relaxing body with quick motions of her forceps.

“The soldiers you brought back are just outside,” continued Alex. She brought her hand up to stroke through Astra’s hair. With a foreign sense of single-mindedness, she smoothed the kinks that had once draped her pillow. “They’re all here. You did good.” With her other hand she squeezed the fingers that used to caress her skin. “You did so good.”

The lines in Astra’s face deepened. She didn’t seem to register the words or the person they were coming from. All things considered, Alex tried her best. Perhaps she didn’t have the caliber of goodness that Astra bestowed on her soldiers. Alex knew she didn’t deserve it from Astra. Hand squeezes and reassuring words only did so much.

Astra didn’t want any of it.

Without warning, her body jerked back to lucidness. She took the nearest medic by the scruff of the collar and yanked him close. “Get her out of here,” she ground out and thrust him back. “I don’t want her here.”

The command stabbed at Alex like one of those shards. It left a poison that weakened her limbs as well as her resolve. She stumbled back.

“Now!”

Alex recoiled from the fiery gaze doing everything in its power to avoid her. One look from Lucy told her this was not the time to argue. Alex nodded. She turned, pushing people out of her way to get out of sight before the patient’s fit ripped open her side and before the tears from Alex’s eyes started falling.


	11. The Restless

The front door opened and closed. Nothing happened for a moment. Their bungalow hadn’t seen any commotion lately. The lamps were extinguished and the brick hearth had long since cooled. No one came or went, so the recent, abrupt noise of activity succeeded in upsetting the atmosphere.

Then someone moved. Softly padding feet triggered the floorboards to creak. A lamp clicked on.

The sounds rang hollow in Alex’s ears. She closed her eyes and wished a thousand times over that they wouldn’t come near. She didn’t want to see or speak to anyone. Since being dismissed from the hospital, no one seemed to expect her to return any time soon. Alex sent a message anyway, giving Lucy a heads up that she would be taking the week off. She could afford to. It wasn’t like her job earned her an income. Her livelihood depended on Astra’s tour of duty. They didn’t so much receive currency as they did necessities like food and secure housing.

The errant thought of her wife caused Alex to sigh in frustration. The bed creaked to her sudden wrenching. She was sitting against her headboard and hugging her knees to her chest. The bracing pressure kept the emotions at bay. Her thoughts, though, scampered freely, which was why she could not sleep or read a book. Both seemed simple, uncomplicated pleasures. Neither were within her grasp.

A floorboard groaned. Alex’s gaze shot to the shadow shifting beneath the door. There was a knock.

Inhaling sharply, Alex snatched the book lying on her bedside table and cracked it open. Her eyes skimmed aggressively over the lines bleeding together like wet ink.

Without leave to do so, Astra opened the door. She shuffled in until she was just over the threshold, hand resting on the door handle.

Alex didn’t know what to say but she knew it wouldn’t be helped by meeting the gaze directed at her. She feigned ignorance by turning the page of her book. Its medical content didn’t exactly soothe the discomfort of being watched. It only served to exacerbate the circumstances disheveling her bed, silencing her home, and twisting notions recently altered.

“Have you eaten?”

 _Of course_ , Alex wanted to hiss. Her hollow stomach begged to differ.

“Lucy shared her extra rations with me,” Astra said when Alex didn’t respond. She didn’t move save for a bowing head. “Though I’d hardly call it dinner.”

Alex worked her jaw. She pressed her legs harder into her chest. The book remained propped up in her other hand, its pages trembling. _Don’t rise to it_ , she thought. It’s just a ruse. Another in a streak of unpredictable gestures. Thank god the fire had gone out, otherwise the crackling noise would have triggered a most unwelcome déjà vu.

A sudden movement from the corner of her eye seized her as she shrank back into the headboard.

“Can we talk?” Astra had taken two strides into the bedroom, bringing herself into the light bleeding through the lampshade. “You have not been at the hospital. The past few days have been hazy, I’ll admit, but I do remember arriving at the tent and what happened after.” She paused. Then, upon taking a deep breath, the words forced themselves out. “You must have misunderstood.”

Alex filled the center crease of her book with glaring cruelty. “There’s no misunderstanding. You made yourself pretty clear the last time I was there.”

“You couldn’t have known what I was thinking. Whatever properties that Rao forsaken shrapnel were made from invaded my system, making me confused and –“

“I’m a medical professional,” growled Alex. “I know the effects of blood poisoning.”

“Then I do not have to explain how agonizing it was. To lay there on that table while my soldiers watched me – heard me – crying out. Ground combat is gristly and unspeakably so. But what happens after, when one is in surgery, conscious of the faces of their comrades filling the spaces between pain…” She bowed her head. “That shame was bearable compared to having you there.”

“I get it.” Alex ground the bitter taste between her teeth. Her chest heaved over the words that refused to stay locked up. “You don’t want anything to do with me. Fine. I can play that game too. Now get out.”

“That’s hardly fair when I –“

“Go!”

“No!”

The bark drove Alex’s head up so she could see the crushing expression on Astra’s face. In fact, whatever she was feeling at the moment indeed crushed her features with a puckered brow and downturned mouth. Her eyes were direct, albeit devastating. She looked as pale as if she had spent months instead of two days under a tent canopy. Alex didn’t allow herself to be softened by the pangs inspired from Astra’s poor appearance.

The silence persisted. Alex’s nostrils flared around a furious intake of breath. She snapped closed her book but held fast to its spine, _needing_ something to crush because the words no matter how commanding in tone didn’t do it justice. It angered her that she wasn’t the cause for that downcast look on Astra. She wasn’t even useful enough to act as a poison.

But Astra wasn’t downcast any longer.

“It’s not like you to follow my example.” Astra stared hard, and her tone offered no room for interruption. “If you wish to dismiss me, please allow me the chance to explain my behavior.”

“I don’t see why I should. If you feel like you have to explain yourself, you didn’t have to wait two days. Fangshan may be in a global crisis, but we still have phones.”

“What I have to say cannot be expressed through a communication device. At the risk of making you wait, I decided to obey doctor’s orders and allow my body to heal.”

A lightness filled her at the news. Something so sweet as pie and bright as a sunflower. Alex would have tempered the feeling, but her voice overruled her. “And have you?”

“I have the stamina to face you,” remarked Astra. “Although I doubt that is enough to even the odds.”

Alex wanted to smile, to snort, to reward them both with a noise of amusement. She wanted to, dearly. It might not mend the hurt between them, but it was a step in the right direction. Weeks ago, when Alex started asking Astra about herself, the personal anecdotes and random opinions of the woman and not the general, her efforts managed to tear down the veils drawn by their disgrace. That had been an opportunity granted and fulfilled in return. Now, after a heartbreaking setback, the smallest gesture seemed like progress. Or just wishful thinking.

“Forgive me for speaking to you so sharply. I did not want you to see me like that.”

The kindness in her voice nearly made Alex recoil. “That’s not good enough,” she asserted, thrusting her head forward.

Those pitiful eyes dropped to the muscles straining in her neck and Alex leaned back as if burned. Astra’s gaze contained wisps of heat similar to erstwhile passion, something that had glowed desperately long ago but had burnt out from lack of fuel.

Her voice softened too. What the hell was wrong with Astra? Why apologetic all of a sudden? The order from two days ago seemed so visceral. “Go!” she had barked. Like Alex herself had stabbed her through. The patient who had lain on that bed wrenched away from her touch. Like she hadn’t desired it over the table during dinner or under the sheets in their bed.

“What’s changed?” Alex swung her legs over the bed in answer to Astra’s open body language. Open hands and pouring honesty made Alex tremble. “You’ve been bitter our entire time here. I don’t even think you enjoyed our conversations. You were humoring me with crumbs. Who’s to say those weren’t lies? Not that I blame you. It’s rather fitting payback, wouldn’t you say?”

“Even if that were true, that doesn’t make it right. Not the lies: I haven’t lied to you about myself. It wouldn’t have been fair to spare you embarrassment. It was brave of you to ask, considering the circumstances, and the least I could do was return the sentiment.”

“Oh, so it was pity. I get it now.”

“No, I… ” Astra’s fingers flexed before her. She dropped them to her sides, sighing at the futility. “I wanted to share my past with you. You never took an interest before. I understand why you didn’t and I don’t begrudge you for it. But when you came to me that night, talking about politics and war… I wanted you to see beyond my reputation in the Guard. I wasn’t always a soldier – you know that now.”

Alex diverted her gaze to the corner of the bed just to swallow properly. When she regained the nerve, she looked back. “If you enjoyed the time we spent here together, why did you dismiss me at the hospital?”

“I told you.” Astra’s expression wilted, exasperated. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You didn’t want me to see you – not the soldier but the woman I’ve been getting to know the past month – in that state.” At the nod, Alex felt a similar solemnness sinking within her. “You think just because I see you differently now, that I think less of you? That you don’t have the strength an officer carries? That’s bullshit, Astra, and a goddamned cop out.”

“You know me too well, it seems.”

It wasn’t delivered in the firm tone she would have expected. It sounded defeated. And for it to come from the woman, the soldier, the wife Alex had struggled to coax from isolation? At great risk to her own perturbed existence? There was much about this marriage that threw Alex into boiling frustration and the sort of confusion that made her world spin. For Astra to go from hated captor to bitter rival to tentative friend and be repaid with solemn defeat…

 _Shit_.

Alex’s throat tightened and her breath caught. She didn’t want to be Astra’s enemy or the cause of her pain. She really didn’t. Why, when she had tried so hard to make herself worthy of forgiveness? When she wanted nothing more than to earn back Astra’s trust?

Alex was on the verge of tears, her heart was beating out of her chest, and she couldn’t believe how foolish Astra was being right now. “I’m your wife and I have a right to see you any way I want.”

Astra held her watery gaze. And she said nothing. Nothing. Her face had turned as blank as a powered down automaton. It was as if she had shut herself off.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your reading. I should retire.”

Alex watched her go with a heavy heart. It wasn’t supposed to end with Astra’s back to her. As if they hadn’t tried to navigate their troubles as all couples in love do.

Alex nearly swallowed her tongue in haste. “Wait!” She flung herself from the bed without a care for her book. It landed in a crinkled heap on the carpet by the time she made it out of the room, in full realization of the substance aching in her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. The sound of a hand clapping the door open had jolting Astra around, but the apology looked to have rattled her through and through. “I know I sound desperate. Please listen. I didn’t mean to shut you down. You’re right. We owe it to each other to talk this through.”

It dawned on Alex that she had followed Astra into the spare bedroom, a place she had never set foot in. The dark walls and furniture provided a deceptive warmth in substitute for a fireplace. Alex didn’t like it. She felt like the room was going to swallow her or snuff her out of the world. Perhaps that was why Astra choose to retreat here every night.

“I don’t buy this frail act,” scolded Alex. It puffed up her ego that she had it in her to do so before such glumness. Enough for her to drive on. “You’re tougher than you look at the moment. It’s all just an act.”

Astra shook her head. “I can’t do this. Not now.” She turned to pull back the comforter and planted a hand on the bed when she couldn’t reach. “Please.”

She moved slowly. Agonizingly so. Alex blinked as if dispelling a fog. Lucy had more sense than to discharge a patient prematurely. No matter how disgruntled she was by the responsibility, she wouldn’t risk Alura’s wrath if Astra keeled over in or out of her care.

The smallest whimper slipped as Astra overextended herself. She leaned on the bed, grabbing her side. The encumbrances from surgery weighed heavily on her. It didn’t take a medical degree to see it. Astra’s recovery expended so much of her energy that the exhaustion had lowered her guard, revealing all to Alex as a red flag in broad daylight.

Alex stepped forward and then caught herself. “Has Lucy cleared you?”

Astra, proud as she was, refused to answer. She bowed her head over what must have been a grimace and resumed her efforts to prepare her bed.

“Astra! How could you? You were seriously injured. It could have been fatal. Why are you gambling with your life?”

“It seems as though I’ve lost my stamina to argue with you. You win. Now, will you leave me?”

Like an ocean tide receding from shore, the fight drained from Astra’s eyes. Alex willed herself to back down. She worried at the inside of her cheek, debating the pros and cons of pressing an issue which seemed too important to gloss over.

But as Astra was being overwhelmed by the pain this bedroom nurtured, Alex had been compromised as well. In this case, nothing good would come from persisting.

“Alright,” she said, dropped her gaze to the floor. “Get some rest. We can talk another time; when you’re feeling up to it.”

Turning on the last word, Alex closed the door behind her before Astra could breathe a word.

* * *

If someone had told Alex a year ago that she would begin to worry about Astra’s wellbeing, she would have laughed them into the next solar system.

The truth was, she had always cared about Astra – in a miniscule, humane way that one might wish a complete stranger luck. While an army general attracted a variety of dangers both mortal and political, there was no reason to worry when Astra had the protection of six battalions. They upheld her decisions in the ready room, sustained wounds for her, and died for her. Alex knew about some of these acts of loyalty through word of mouth. The _Divivestnik_ had large mouths; its captain having a gaping trap that never shut on his friends’ noble deeds. Alex had heard a lot of gossip, some of it true and most often hard to believe. When it came to the sacrifices of Astra’s soldiers, however, Alex didn’t know their veracity until witnessing it on Fangshan.

A year ago, Alex didn’t consider Astra’s problems to be her problems. Frankly, their marriage wasn’t founded on the idea of supportive companionship or social engagement. Yet they did make a promise of mutual respect, and breaking that vow had been Alex’s greatest failure.

Suddenly, worrying came second nature. There were plenty of opportunities for it to fester. Alex couldn’t turn a blind eye if she tried. The signs of Astra’s discomfort were subtle: crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she overextended her reach, hissing breathes over pain, a hand folded over a brow when fatigued. It had to have been exhausting, hiding the symptoms from ever-watchful eyes. And Alex did hover, feeling mentally crowded with Astra’s every waking breath while keeping her physical distance as the dimensions of a single-level bungalow allowed. She wouldn’t apologize for it. Her job now revolved around Astra and keeping her from sabotaging her recovery.

But memory of adultery did not make Alex sore with worry. Guilt didn’t grip the air in her throat whenever she heard a crashing sound from the spare bedroom.

Every day that went by would see Alex wringing her hands in distress until she realized it and quit out of a raw sense of duty. Nervous concern had no place here, not when Astra depended on her care (whether or not she accepted the necessity of it). The shrapnel had been removed leaving a fresh scar and an echo of the twinges that wracked her body when it last had its claws in her. The shrapnel had gone, but its ghost still seethed under the skin.

The crashes coming from the spare bedroom were most often associated with night. Whimpers led to shouts and waking gasps which inevitably ended with self-pity in the form of a thrown object. Astra’s rattled state was, no doubt, a symptom of constant battle. Nightmares and sensitivity to sound came with the territory.

Although Alex had seen trauma in the field, she didn’t have a clue as to what it looked and sounded like at home. But she had lived with Astra for 17 months and was intimately familiar with her habits. The night terrors were not some passing phase to be treated with warm milk and a dose of compassion. It took the stuffing out of Astra and demanded more support from Alex than she ever imagined. Sometimes she felt sorry for pushing her. Then again, she couldn’t forgive Astra making light of the damages.

Alex’s suspicions mounted. Astra hadn’t been the same since her injury. She wasn’t bouncing back as quickly. The usual wounds healed in their own time, leaving Astra to vent her frustrations or failings in the gym. But nowadays her body demanded too much of her. Astra was too weak to dent a punching bag let alone hold her own against Alex when laying down the law.

As gently as Alex could muster, she pestered Astra to take care of herself and to cede her primary responsibilities as general to Commander J’onzz. She could still strategize and command from the safety of her home. After all, their bungalow was not without its technological conveniences.

The beep of the stove jostled Alex from her thoughts. She paused the television show she had been watching and rose from the sofa. Morning streamed in through the window blinds. Astra had been sitting in silence since surfacing from her bedroom. Restless creases marred her face and her hair glistened from the shower. From her chair, she could see out the nearby window. The view from the dining room offered something of a dry landscape. Apparently, no rain for three days forebode nasty consequences for Fangshan’s stability. Without a major body of water, much of the planet depended on constant rainfall. A week without the slightest precipitation would cause drought and starvation. On a societal level, it would enflame tensions within an already fragile government, upheaval amongst tribes, and eventual war. And the last thing Fangshan needed was a war within a war.

Nevertheless, the conditions drying their backyard managed to engross Astra for the ten minutes it took for her breakfast to warm up.

As Alex headed for the kitchen, she made a remark in passing. “As a patient, you really are your own worst enemy.”

“Then you must be glad I am not your patient.”

Detecting the bait in her midst, Alex willingly took it. “No, it’s worse.” She stopped where Astra sat at the dining table and folded her arms, perfecting a put-upon expression. “I’m the woman you married. Which makes this arrangement of ours all the more serious. You don’t actually think I would leave you to fend for yourself when there’s a fist-sized hole in your side.”

“That is stitched shut,” Astra corrected. Her hand started towards the source, but she caught herself in the act. The habit alone was a sign of weakness. “As to your priorities, I thought your work at the hospital was your purpose in life. It gave you the opportunity to put your education to practical use."

Alex’s eyebrows rose. “So you were listening?”

The likelihood that Astra had indeed listened during those nightly banters lightened her mood, but if it actually meant something to Astra to share in her wife’s pride… Alex swallowed her hope for another day. She toughened her skin and kept to the present subject.

“I prefer to help people,” she continued, “who want to be helped. Stubborn Kryptonians aren’t my specialty.”

“Just as well.”

Astra straightened the placemat before her unnecessarily. She didn’t seem interested in continuing the conversation. Perhaps if she met Alex’s eyeline, she might have been willing to indulge hopes previously suppressed. In any case, the color had returned to her cheeks for the first time since being impaled by shrapnel, and hunger flashed in her eyes.

The smell of breakfast wafted in from the kitchen. Alex knew there would be no ignoring a Kryptonian’s stomach, stubborn or not. She rolled her eyes and fetched the breakfast.

When spoon and heaping bowl were in hand, she headed for the woman gnawing the dining table with her eyes.

The starved gaze followed the wisps of steam rising from the bowl. Her nose wrinkled considerably. “What is that?”

“The same thing you had for breakfast yesterday: cereal.”

“Perhaps we should embrace more variety.”

“Astra, this isn’t a hotel. And you need your strength. That means eating high protein foods. Oatmeal is the perfect solution. It’s hearty and nutritious.”

The grunt of disapproval was not at all subtle. Alex shut her eyes and massaged her forehead in annoyance. They had been through this practically every day, three times a day, one tantrum for every meal. If Alex had no idea before that she would be marrying a picky eater, she did now.

She let out a grating sigh. “Can you just humor me? I’m sure you’ve eaten worse. I have. Those military rations are bland as cardboard.” She gestured to the steaming bowl in her hand. “Come on. I chopped up some berries this time so you cannot say it is the same old cereal.”

“Absolutely not. I am the cook around here. I have one bad accident and all of a sudden you are a chef. Suffice it to say…” the hands in Astra’s lap tightened to fists and she shook them with every word enunciated, “… you do not have the culinary instinct. Through no fault of your own.” She shrugged innocently. “It is just that some people should not be in the kitchen.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Some gratitude would be nice considering all I’ve done for you in the past week. I just want what’s best for you.”

“You are not my mother,” Astra spat at the empty placemat.

“Seriously? After the stories you told me about her work on Krypton as Minister of Education, I would have taken it as a compliment. But matters of career aside, thank god. If I was _your_ mother, I’d have no means of escaping your tantrums.”

“And why haven’t you?” Astra shot her a look that did not match the curiosity of her tone. “Why not end your torment? Divorce me and be done with it.”

Startled, Alex stepped back. Was she being serious? Divorce? Alex’s mouth opened and closed, lost for words. Divorce, not separation; just fast track to the complete irrevocable dissolution of their marriage. Alex felt her insides crumbling. She couldn’t help how dejectedly her head fell. Rough patch or not, didn’t they owe it to each other to make an effort? So they argued. So they disagreed about matters of diet. That shouldn’t be reason to break up. Right?

The chief question remained. Did _Alex_ want a divorce?

Despite the sinking feeling in the deep of her stomach, Alex stole her courage and recovered with some bite in her voice. “ _Divorce?_ ” she sneered. “I wouldn’t want to make it easy for you.”

“At least my conscience is clear. My feelings on the matter have no bearing here.”

“Your feelings are what may be jeopardizing this mission, General.”

“I already admitted that it was wrong to bring you here. I even offered to hail the _Divivestnik_ to pick you up.” Astra turned away and scowled at the window. “It’s not my fault if you can’t accept the luxury and safety being aboard a starship would afford you.”

“Christ, has that poison blinded you? I’m here because I want to be. No one in their right mind would leave you alone in this state.”

Sensing an ulterior motive, Astra met her with narrowed eyes. “What state?”

“Not anything that would be grounds for alimony. You’re not suicidal.” Alex cocked her head and added, “But that doesn’t mean you’re being sensible. When you’re not bent over in excruciating pain, you act like you sustained a mere plasma graze. That shrapnel may not be in your body anymore, but it has prolonged your recovery. Keeping a healthy diet, minding your limits when on your feet, and not concerning yourself with the planet’s current state of affairs are all things that should be top priority. J’onn can handle your brigade until Lucy clears you for full combat duties.”

A huff of mockery puffed from Astra. “That Martian and his team of misfits? He is only concerned with the glory of his people. I cannot wait till I return and restore proper stability. My soldiers will be grateful to have me back. J’onn J’onzz couldn’t keep order if it leapt into his pocket.”

“He outranks you.”

Alex’s rationale received a scathing look. “Don’t remind me,” Astra muttered.

“He has held a command since you were flying simulations at the academy. And if what I hear around the hospital is anything to go by, he has the admiration of _your_ troops.”

“Gossip,” Astra dismissed. She diverted her glare elsewhere before Alex could see it fizzle out. “Nothing but gossip.”

The nerve. The fucking nerve. Alex couldn’t believe that she had to deal with Astra’s obstinacy in addition to her selfishness, ignorance, and propensity to push her limits. These ideas of returning to her command were optimistic at best but pure delusions if Alex had any say about it.

Exasperation had her huffing. “You’re as irritable as a four-year-old!” She placed down the bowl of cereal with enough force to scatter a few berries into Astra’s lap. “Grow the fuck up.”


	12. Different Light

“Where is my sister?”

Alex opened and closed her mouth. “Um…”

Sunset glared from behind a smoothly brushed head of hair, but the expression of the woman on her doorstep was unmistakable. Strangers didn’t make it past the heavily guarded gate of their compound. Not even their neighbors – fellow soldiers and a sprinkling of natives – showed up unannounced. And if they did, they upheld a custom of bearing a gift. Without looking, Alex could tell from the rigid posture that this woman’s hands were empty.

“ _Astra_ ,” enunciated the stranger, as if they spoke different languages. “Where is she?”

Unable to string the words together and afraid to look away from those dagger-pointed eyes, she managed to throw a thumb over her shoulder.

As a tempest wind swept past Alex, a voice echoed from the bedroom. “Who is it? I’m in no mood to entertain guests at …”

Astra shuffled to halt. She was dressed in a fuzzy gray sweater, black knit pants, and socks – her usual ensemble when evening brought a chill through the bungalow. It must not have helped because a pallor invaded her cheeks at the sight of their guest.

Alex pulled at the sleeves of her shirt until they were crushed into her palms. The habit always wore the hems enough to send her mother into diatribes about not having money to replace torn clothing and no time around her schedule to darn them. Alex couldn’t thread a needle to save her life. That had been before graduate school. After, when she had learned to stitch dummy wounds, she could finally claim the excuse of not having enough time between her own work shifts. Even now, laziness and nerves pulled at threads that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

Unaware of her own agitation, Alex folded her arms over her chest and listened for a pin to drop. The tension in the room was too palpable for words. And yet no amount of awkward silence moved her to speak. She wouldn’t dare – with two Ze women in the room.

The whites of Astra’s eyes glittered in the natural light. “Alura,” she breathed, slightly out of breath. “You are… What are you doing here?”

If Alex didn’t know any better, she would have thought Astra had seen a ghost.

“A strange inquiry coming from someone who does not return my dispatches.”

 _Dispatches?_ thought Alex. _That’s cold._

She straightened at the familiar sight of a jaw tensing. She scolded herself for the knee jerk thought. Astra didn’t need defending.

Astra stood her ground. “This will not be one of your –“

“Were it not for Lucy,” Alura interrupted, “I would not be here. _She_ picks up the phone. That’s more than I can say for you.”

Astra’s eyes shifted, looking for a target for her animosity. She found it in the general direction of the floor, brow furrowed to imagine her enemy. “Lucy,” she hissed.

“Not… another… word.”

The three words, crisply uttered, sent a quiver through Alex.

Perhaps Alura’s presence, albeit unexpected, would knock sense into Astra. She was doing a bang-up job of scaring the wits out of Alex.

She looked between the two of them. Her eyes panned left, right, left, right. The air caught in her throat several times since first clapping eyes on the eerie resemblance. She had never seen twins before. On Earth, a healthy pregnancy was an advantage for the wealthy and well connected. Women without the means to provide regular care for themselves and their baby or babies were better off with the alternative. Not that terminating the pregnancy was any less dangerous. Alex had seen dozens of women admitted to the ER for the kind of accidents a licensed physician wouldn’t make as an intern. But twins? They were just as rare for the rich and powerful. Human evolution wouldn’t allow it due to pollution or substance abuse or any number of factors.

Kryptonians, however, did not seem to have that deficiency. At least from where Alex was standing. Astra and Alura… they were identical sisters. Same height, same eye color, same presence so fiery that one need not stand too close or be caught aflame.

But not quite so uncanny. Aside from the obvious sickly complexion, Astra’s lines were deeper. The frown lines puckered her mouth and tightened her jaw. The exhaustion Alex felt from her – the kind she had always seen on the nights Astra came home to their cabin on the _Divivestnik_ – spoke of calculation and front. She was either defending herself or mounting an offensive. Always. Even now, facing her sister, a battle for restraint waged in those crinkles around her eyes.

Alex’s gaze shifted yet again. Alura could be described more simply. Her physique was that of a negotiator not a fighter. Softer skin shown warm in the light. Her hair looked so smooth as if just brushed. Her entire self appeared groomed for an audience. No makeup, just a healthy glow emanating from every pore. And her stance was that of a mother – Alex knew because her own mother stood that way. Alura kept the peace through gentle persuasion, perpetuating absolute composure. She radiated comfort, even in rage.

“You owe me an explanation,” said Alura. “I am here to receive it. Nothing more.”

“May I have that in writing?”

The quip hardly cracked a reaction in either of their faces. They remained immobile as duelists during a countdown.

Alura had no riposte. No verbal one, at least. Her choice of unamused silence held fast. She did not break first. That defeat belonged to the general.

Astra’s eyes came to rest on Alex. It couldn’t quite be placed, that look on her face. Someone in love might describe it as a plea.

Alex shifted from foot to foot. Her hands returned to pulling at the sleeves of her shirt. “I’ll… give you some privacy.” She willed herself to move under the guise of… whatever this was. Sibling rivalry? The bitter past? It was anyone’s guess. Astra had kept her family history to herself. Not a whisper of her sister entered into the limited discussions they shared in their living room all those days ago, when they were on civil terms, on the edge of fondness.

Alex shook off the memories with a roll of her shoulder. She tapped on the light pad of her bedroom. It didn’t go without saying that she would respect their privacy, however, she wasn’t irresponsible. Upon shutting the door, she pressed her ear against the smooth wood.

The door muffled the sound of voices, but she could make out their even toned, non-aggressive tenor.

Satisfied, Alex withdrew and headed for the ensuite.

Silence itself did not last long. It wasn’t meant to. She knew tensions could snap in a heartbeat. Recently, her time as a field medic had shattered the optimism of her youth. Soldiers put on a brave front. One day, enemies might shake hands in a ceasefire and the next, shoot them in the chest. Nothing good lasted long. It might be a narrow view of the world, but that’s what this life had taught Alex. 

So she took a quick shower, scrubbing off the day's perspiration and the strain she carried in her back. With her skin tinted red, she nearly stumbled out of the bathroom half covered in a towel. Head tilted, she listened for any signs of raised voices, argument, tumbling bodies…

The seconds passed with every throbbing beat of her heart in her ears. Nothing.

She sighed, inordinately relieved by the silence. She dropped her towel and headed for her bed to pull back the covers. In the haze of exhaustion, she flopped back on the bed and muttered, “At least they’re not killing each other.”

* * *

Seeing the two together proved a surreal experience for Alex. The Grand Canyon couldn’t reach the level of marvel taking over the bungalow. Compared to polar lights, this took the cake. At times, Alex craved a bowl of kettle corn because there was no better accompaniment to watching this all unfold.

Dramatic comparisons aside, the situation had much cause for inspection. Alura fussed over Astra as the latter batted consoling hands away. Annoyance squared Astra’s jaw, but there was a definite fondness beneath the surface that made a mockery of her attempts to evade her sister’s supervision.

Albeit the fondness was restrained and ready to recoil at the slightest sign of over-attention. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that Astra did not like to be mollycoddled. Alex could barely get the woman to eat oats and fruit separately much less in one bowl, fully incorporated. The pains she took to make things look appetizing, Alex thought with a grating sigh. It begged the question of how a young Astra had handled herself under parental care.

Slowly, the knots in her stomach unwound like a theatre unfolded before a spectator. Alex was glad that Astra had someone. She found that she cared whether or not Astra had the support of family and friends. The general didn’t deserve a lonely life, no matter how vehemently she acted to the contrary.

A blustery sigh came from the kitchen.

“And stop following me!” groused Astra. She marched in dramatic fashion. “You wanted me to rest and that is where I am headed. I can see myself to bed without an escort.”

The footsteps did not have their desired effect. Stomping wool-socked feet merely succeeded in making Astra look like a spoiled teenager.

Alex rolled her eyes. Her wife could do with a little patience, with herself and people.

Alura took the storming off in stride. She had probably taken the brunt of them for much of their childhood.

With a neutral expression, she made her way to where Alex was reading on the sofa. “We have not had the chance to be formerly introduced.”

Openmouthed, Alex hesitated. She was still trying to come to terms with _twins_. “I, uh, yeah.” She quickly rose to her feet, tugging her shirt down unnecessarily before taking the hand in a firm grip. “Alex. You can call me Alex.”

“Alura.”

“Would you like to sit down?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Alura took the place next to Alex. Her hands smoothed down the length of her thighs to iron out the creases. Or to buy time. The hesitance in her gaze finally landed on Alex and held a beat longer than necessary.

“Forgive me for being blunt earlier,” Alura said, finally. “My wife provided me the medical report, but I could not breathe easy until I saw Astra with my own eyes.

That was understandable. Alex nodded.

The air in the room grew stale. It couldn’t quite be described as tense or even awkward. Something about the clasped hands in Alura’s lap, thumbs winding around each other in circles, told Alex that there was more to Alura’s visit than met the eye.

Alura took a deep breath and let it out. “What is her condition?”

_What is her condition?_

A strange question. Alex gnawed at her bottom lip. What could she say? Alura hadn’t even been invited. And her presence here wasn’t exactly a pleasure to behold if Astra’s tantrums were anything to go by. Alex didn’t want to involve herself in a family matter, especially when she couldn’t hold a candle to a diplomatic and very capable woman. Not that she wanted to try. It just wasn’t… her place? Alex couldn’t really call herself family to the Ze’s. Sometimes the ring on her finger felt more like decoration.

Tucking her leg under her, Alex tried to remedy the discomfort. “You couldn’t tell from your time with her today?”

“I would like to hear it from someone who has been living with her. We both know Astra shows us what she wants us to see.”

“Well, her wound isn’t healing as fast as the kind Kryptonians usually succumb to, but that’s to be expected. Lucy removed nine pieces of kryptonite – that’s what the medical team is calling it. The procedure was very traumatic for Astra.” Almost as traumatic to watch. Alex swallowed the bile tickling the back of her throat. “Anyway, she’s doing well.”

“And mentally? Emotionally?”

Alex hated to discourage the hope in those words. If she lied, she could be harming Astra’s only chance for recovery. To give Alura the impression that she wasn’t needed, that her sister didn’t rely on some form of support, would be the nail in the proverbial coffin. Hope made Alex heady with fantasies of large family gatherings and the smell of turmeric and tenderloin from the kitchen. Hope traded scowls and winces for crinkle-nosed smiles.

“She’s obstinate,” spat Alex. She couldn’t stop herself now. “Absolutely a pain in the ass. She won’t eat what I give her unless we go through a verbal battle of wills. And I win only because I threaten to shove it down her throat. I don’t… I don’t _like_ threatening her. It gives me no enjoyment. I just want her to regain her strength and have some goddamn respect for me.” Alex straightened as if a bolt of lightning struck her. She stared, gob smacked. “Oh, god. I’m sorry. That was selfish.”

Alura held up a hand. “No. You have no need to apologize. I can see this has not been easy for you.”

“I’m trying my best.” Despite Alura’s vote of confidence, Alex felt a visceral need to explain herself, so she insisted again. “I am. I’ve given up most of my shifts at the hospital to take care of her. She still needs help lifting things. How she’s able to change her clothes every day is a wonder because she keeps me out of her room.”

 _Her_ room. Not _their_ room; as such an arrangement would suit most married couples.

The slip hardly daunted Alex. It just felt so cathartic to speak to someone who knew Astra. Really _knew_ her. Offering a private look into their marriage might cause her a sting of regret later, but it abated the loneliness. Because if someone knew how hard this was on her, on Astra, maybe help would come. Maybe things would change for the better.

“I know I didn’t mention this earlier,” said Alex, “but she does get winded easily. If I’m not here to keep an eye out, she’ll push herself too hard and make herself worse off. Ugh,” she scrubbed her face. “I feel like I should apologize again. You handle her better than I ever could. At least she lets you into her space.”

A warm smile graced Alura’s lips. “Thank you for telling me. And doing so honestly. No apology is necessary. It relieves me to hear that she is in excellent care.” Her gaze split then, away from Alex and losing its natural mirth by the second. “Her injuries aside, though, there is a concern I have been carrying recently. In light of your relation to Astra, I feel it is my duty to share it with you.”

Doubt made Alex’s throat a desert. She swallowed with difficulty. “What is it?”

“I am worried for her. She’s been at this far too long. Most generals at her age retire. At least from active combat.”

“Retirement?” The response couldn’t be squeaked out fast enough. “You think Astra should retire?”

“There are many roles to be played in the intelligence field. She could very well be an advisor to the members of Krypton’s high council. There are opportunities awaiting her. _Safer_ opportunities.”

Alex didn’t waver. “Asking her to give up her life’s work to sit in a chair is not what I’d call saving her. Her brigade, her command, means everything to her. Hundreds of soldiers count on her leadership. She’s… she thinks she’s nothing without them. You can’t ask her to give that up.”

“Astra has lived a long life by human standards. She has been on active duty since before you first drew breath. And she rarely takes leave.” With a sigh, Alura shook her head. “I know I have no reason to ask anything of you. But you have her ear in a way I do not. Astra has never listened to me, or our parents for that matter. Even now, when we are in the same house, there is a divide between us. One I put there.” She looked away with a flinch of defeat.

For someone Alex had met only yesterday, a broad range of emotions was being offered. Alura was so open with her feelings. Alex fought the urge to squirm. The honest self-castigation on the face of her wife’s twin was kind of off-putting to watch.

“I regret that our rift endured so long that she saw fit to marry a human without our family’s consent,” said Alura. “Please don’t misunderstand. I am not prejudiced. I only mean to express my frustration with Astra’s silence. I am very sorry I did not attend your wedding. I would have, if only someone had sent word.”

“Yes, how does something like that happen?”

“I heard the news from Lucy.”

Alex calculated the months. “After Astra and I landed on Fangshan.”

“When first I learned of her marriage, there was every reason for celebration. I was so happy for her. I still am. But the longer the idea sat in my mind, the more it didn’t make sense. Lucy mentioned that she had taken on a protégé – you – and it was her belief that you accepted the post so that you could be closer to Astra.”

Alex’s brows scrunched. From what Alura was saying, it seemed like Lucy had been doing more prying into her personal life than professional mentoring. She quelled the irritation. Lucy was her only friend on the planet. Literally. And she was right. Almost.

“I volunteered as a medic because it is a worthy cause, and I wanted to have something to do besides sit around in this empty house. I wanted a purpose. These people need help and I have two hands and a brain to give it.”

“Of course. I don’t disagree. This may seem very strange to you, hearing me talk of you in this way when we have never spoken before today. Rest assured, my source of information is honest, yet… garrulous in her accounts.”

Alex relaxed to the affection beaming from Alura. The brightest light in the room caught in her eyes, reflecting a daydream of what she longed to return to. Anyone would be lucky to find half of the love shared between her and Lucy.

“In any case.” Alura’s head dropped. She picked at her cuticles, murmuring, “I thought this marriage was Astra’s way of pulling back from her duties in the Guard. I thought she had finally decided to… to settle down.”

The slight twitch in her expression mirrored Alex’s. “Settling down isn’t in Astra’s vocabulary.”

“Yes, I know. Some form of it, I suppose. She has been alone for so long, I thought she would never find someone.”

“Alone?” Alex tilted her head, confused. An eerie feeling wormed in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Astra has had no exclusive arrangement previously, as far as I know. You must have known that you are her first long-term partner.”

Alex’s tongue felt heavy and too obstructing to be her own. “Sh-she’s never married? She has had no wife before me?”

“… No.”

The drawn-out pause was more an emphasis on wonder than uncertainty. Alura was sure alright. Her eyes narrowed, seemingly in concern for the last person in the room to find out just who Astra really was.

Despite the vertigo creeping at the corners of Alex’s vision, she stood and began pacing the living room. She grabbed at her forehead, straining for a solitary thought that made sense. What had she been thinking for the past 17 months of marriage? That it was her first and Astra’s… oh, third or fourth? It didn’t matter how many times Astra had vowed to honor and care for another being. The fact of the matter was that this… union… had been founded on lies from the beginning.

Lies. Like those that slithered easily from Alex’s lips.

Movement stirred out of the corner of her eye. Alura reorienting herself on the sofa before speaking up. “I have shared few conversations with her on the subject. Mostly because it is immaterial to her. For as long as I have known my sister, she has found no companion suitable. If she has been looking, she gave up the search the day she met you.”

“She’s over a hundred years old!” Alex exclaimed. She nearly choked on the gulp of air that would not come fast enough. “How can she not have married?”

The argumentative tone caused Alura to frown. “While her years are longer in contrast to your race, she has spent them without a desire for companionship. Being in service to the Kryptonian Guard means traveling to planets engulfed by civil war and settling disputes between opposing forces. It means fighting other people’s wars, never their own. As a diplomat, I have met soldiers from all over the galaxy. Some tell me they know nothing but protocol and that they have so short a supply of their own patriotism. They comprehend it – to be sure – in the voices and weapons raised against tyranny, but they rarely experience it. Krypton has been spared from war for eight centuries. Astra and her brigade have never had to fight for their own people.”

Alura looked away, sighing. “The sacrifices we make for others have a tendency to dissociate us from our own desires. Marriage has always been a point of contention in my family. On Krypton, partnerships are as necessary to our lifecycle as the air we breathe. Astra would not hear any talk of courtship.” After a pause, she tilted her head. “Do you not take pride in the fact that she surrendered a hard-fought lifestyle to wed you?”

Alex was sure she was going to vomit. The creeping feeling worming in her gut earlier manifested itself as shame adulterated by the worst assumptions. How could she have assumed Astra to collect wives like trophies? To be some playgirl jumping from one marital bed to the next between victorious battles?

“I am sorry.”

The voice sounded faraway, but it was spoken honestly enough to pull Alex to the present.

Alura looked up at her with regret in her eyes. “She did not tell you.”

Alex shook her head.

“It should not surprise me that she did not. Astra is… well, you know. When it comes to the battlefield, she is ruthless and strategically articulate. But outside of that, people frighten her. The connection two people make… I never thought she understood it or valued it.” The corners of Alura’s mouth twitched and wilted as if she was hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. “It only saddens me that you heard it from me first. You must feel betrayed.”

Alex swallowed thickly. “Not by her.” She shook her head. “Or by you. Thank you for telling me. It’s not your fault. As you said, Astra’s more cautious than shy. She would never let others see her in a vulnerable moment.”

“Even her own wife?”

Perhaps once, when their marriage had been held together by fantasy and deceit. Alex gave a sardonic twist of her mouth. “Now you know the extent of our relationship. It’s not all sunny and hopeful as in a fairy tale.”

“What relationship is? For what it’s worth, I think you are a good person, Alex. You deserve the respect from my sister that you demand of her. Please, do not give up on Astra. I hope, one day, she sees your persistence for the care you harbor for her.” 

Easier said than done. Hope was a fickle emotion in short supply to Alex. At one time she thought Astra had given her a chance. They had opened up to each other not long ago, if only a little. Then someone had to drive weaponized kryptonite into the flesh of her wife. That injury changed Astra. A dull stroke of helplessness forced Alex’s head to hang. It had bled the courage from Astra, and Alex could see no way of helping her.

“I should go. I will return tomorrow to say my goodbyes.”

Alex jolted. “You’re leaving?”

The desperation gained some sympathy from Alura in a crinkle-eyed grin. “I am required on Krypton. My status as a consul does not allow me many benefits in the way of vacation. Lucy understands, in her way.” The faithful glow of her expression soon waned. “But perhaps I have overstayed my welcome. As my wife so eloquently put, I was not invited to this party.” When Alex failed to overcome her shock, Alura conceded. Her hands clasped and fidgeted as they did earlier. “Are you dissatisfied with my visit?”

“No,” Alex emphasized heartily. She came to sit beside Alura, where they began as strangers and now met as, dare Alex think, friends. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize until now how much you’ve been doing for Astra. Aside from the obvious reprieve at being snapped at, it’s been nice to see her with someone who cares about her.”

“It will not be the last time. We will all see each other again.”

“Bring Lucy next time.” Alex grinned at the way the glint returned to Alura’s eyes. “She’ll be a welcome buffer.”

“I’m sure she will look forward to it,” Alura said with a laugh.

It rang odd to Alex’s ears. Their voices did not always sound alike. They had varying degrees of aggression and amiability and neutrality. But that laugh… it was a twin to Astra’s. To hear laughter in a house that never held it planted a seed of hope in Alex.

Alura stood and grasped Alex’s hands in the Kryptonian custom of farewell. “And think about what I said.” She enfolded their hands to convey her urgency. “Fighting other people’s battles has worn her down to bitterness. If she persists in this manner, it will be too late for forgiveness.”

Alex’s eyes snapped up from the fierce embrace. A hollow feeling settled in her gut.

“You know it is true,” said Alura.

It proved hard to gloss over the gravity of what she was saying. Alura had every reason to protect her sister – from war, resentment, a broken marriage. And she would fight in her own way, not with plasma bolts but with calculated reason. Essentially, the stuff that mended disputes and signed treaties. She had been doing it for decades and, if Lucy hadn’t been overselling it, Alura was very good at it.

Yet Alex couldn’t escape her gaze. So much sisterly affection begged for help. Having not known the love of a sister, Alex couldn’t wrap her head around it. She couldn’t even fake it for the sake of this woman’s generosity. But recognizing it, well, when love wore the Ze face, it was glaringly obvious.

Instead of making empty promises, Alex returned the grasp with a squeeze of her own. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

Alura gave a kind smile and let go.

The moment she turned to leave, a feeling of responsibility slowly pressed on Alex’s shoulders. The news dealt a heavy blow. Astra: never married before, always living the single life on the hyperspace lanes.

After all the brush offs, flippant remarks at conversation, and the decision to drag her to a warring planet, now _Alex_ felt like the heartless one. All Astra had wanted was to be loved. She saw a chance with Alex, thus shattering years of status quo. She offered to give her a life and a good one. Alex may not have loved her in the beginning, but Astra exercised patience and never pushed her to extremes. Alex’s mistakes were her own.

Devastation rocked her. Her adultery was sinful enough, but to cheat a woman out of her own chance for happiness? Regardless of the pipe dream quality to their relationship, Astra had made an effort. What had Alex done but every possible thing to loosen the nuts and bash the shit out of that pipe of a dream. She had made a fool of Astra.

The news Alura brought with her, shocking as it was, cast a new perspective on their time spent on Fangshan. No wonder Astra had withdrawn from conversation and any hint of a zealous life. She probably thought _she_ was the one in error. For choosing the wrong partner, for giving up a lifestyle that suited her and taking a chance on a dishonest, cold-hearted hussy.

The front door to the bungalow snapped shut. Alura had retired to be with her wife. Alex rubbed at her stomach in an attempt to sooth its roiling contents. Perhaps she should be exercising more mindfulness to do the same.

* * *

Sunlight bothered Alex’s eyes open. The haze of a fitful sleep made her surroundings fuzzy. Slowly, she came back to herself with a groan. Her fingers brushed rough upholstery. She looked down, remembering the lethargy a few drinks had put in her when she sagged onto the nearest cushioned object. Now, the living room did not offer much in the way of comfort. No evidence of fuel littered the fireplace, but the weight of a blanket, dark green and hand crocheted, was all that provided relief upon this rude awakening.

She sighed, wiggling her fingers through the patterned holes of the fabric. At least she had slept in warmth.

She squinted at her watch. It was approaching mid-day. A blazing sun stole in through the slanted skylight. There was no smell of breakfast. No sound of Astra’s puttering in her bedroom. She must be… out for a walk? Alex didn’t know what to think with her skull pressing in on all sides.

She tentatively massaged her temples. Her hangover was just the beginning. Spending the night in an armchair had not been one of her more brilliant ideas. She bent over and reached back to rub the soreness out of her lower back.

A curse fell loose from her mouth. The stuffing inside the chair could have been straw. Oh, well. It was her own fault. It had been one of the few nights she spent apart from her bed. Necessary as it seemed hours ago, a mere walk to her bedroom would have been a small price to pay for comfortable arrangements. Her back was giving her hell for it and reminding her of her age in the process.

One thing about her surroundings didn’t seem to fit. Her eyes tracked the area rug, looking for a glint of light reflecting off a bottle. No bottle. No drinking glass. What the hell?

She must have been so out of it; she didn’t remember cleaning up after herself. That would be a first. Alex could not exactly call herself a tidy drunk.

Casting off the mystery with a flick of her wrist, Alex focused on what had led her to a sore back and a damnable headache in the first place. The past few days had been a blur. She spent them in the midst of Astra’s recovery pondering the state of affairs. New information had come to light thanks in part to Alura: Astra’s marital celibacy, her dogged routine, her secrecy, and her shame.

Alex was already seeing her wife in a new shade of respect, but it was at the expense of her own inadequacy. Virtue stood in stark contrast to selfishness. Alex thought she knew so much about herself before she met Astra. She took pride in her ability to see through people. When all it had been was a tactic to build up her own ego.

And what a misguided tactic it was. She had read Astra all wrong and hurt her in the process. Alex clung to the blanket in her lap. As a medical graduate she had made a vow to help others. It had been her justification for seeking freedom off world. Escaping Earth’s suffocating poverty was just the first step in becoming a source of hope for the downtrodden Alex had called herself a neighbor to.

It was a foolish endeavor to think she could marry into an honorable class and rise above the entitlement that perpetuated social climbing in the first place. She didn’t need to marry into wealth to make something of herself. Astra couldn’t provide opportunities that Alex herself hadn’t earned. No matter how tactfully Astra spun her words, she never meant for her proposal to be a business arrangement. It had been an act of love.

Alex squirmed in her armchair. A combination of self-pity and frustration had led her to this miserable state. A bottle of whiskey, freshly imported from Captain Jack Harkness’ finest supply drops. At the time, with glass bottom up and not a shred of shame in sight, the gift brought a whole new meaning to humanitarian aid. But now she knew the indulgence had been a coping mechanism.

Alone with her thoughts, no company for peace of mind, it had been her and the bottle. No wonder she passed out here. In recent years, Alex made it a policy to never drink by herself. The repercussions were always a bitch otherwise. Hence the headache, backache, guilt, and all-around shitty feeling.

Alex blew out another sigh. Enough. No more pity. Embrace the frustration but no more self-pity. She stood up, catching herself on the arm of the chair to steady her wobbly gait. When the vertigo passed, she swallowed a bout of nausea and proceeded to the kitchen. There, she downed several glasses of water. The rush of cold down her throat felt cleansing. In body and mind. It might not wash her sins, but it cleared her cluttered mind. God, why did she think whiskey would bring her peace?

“Stupid,” Alex muttered and shakily brought the glass of water to lips again.

Then, a chime came from her phone. It skittered in place, urgently vibrating and lighting up as if it knew Alex didn’t give a shit. She wasn’t in a rush to answer, but when she saw the caller’s name scroll across the screen a niggling sense made her pick it up with equal urgency.

“J’onn?”

“Alex,” came the reply. It sounded gruff, although not with the usual sureness. “We need to talk. It’s about Astra.”

 _Astra_ , not _General_ Astra.

Alex bit her lip. There could be only one reason why J’onn was calling her. Perhaps a few lacerations or a concussion would have necessitated Lucy. But J’onn? The man, Astra claimed, who used his own tormented past to motivate others to fight for his own vainglory? J’onn knew his effect on Astra. The fact that he was personally hailing Alex over civilian transmission showed he was putting aside the feud.

“Alex? Are you there?”

“Yeah.” Alex’s hand rested on her sternum and moved up to massage her throat as if it helped to coax the words out. “Have the Fangshani come to an accord?”

“No, nothing like that.” The bristling sound of him rubbing his chin gave Alex the impression that he hadn’t shaved in days. He cleared his throat and gave her the essentials. “There was a drone strike. This time there was no warning. We saw nothing on our scanners.”

“Okay. What are you saying?” She closed her eyes, but that just made the visualization stronger. She looked out the porch window and focused on the first thing in sight: overgrown weeds and brush. They crawled and snaked over what could possibly have been a beautiful garden once upon a time. “How many did we lose?”

“Thirty-two. Four of them field medics.”

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat. It was likely that she had known them. All doctors and nurses in that zone, regardless of rank or grade, shared some form of accountability when on duty. Although Alex didn’t know all of their names, their bravery in the field cemented their faces in her memory. She’d mourn for the four of them, but what really shook her were the twenty-eight J'onn hadn't named.

“What is this about?” Alex’s voice was made rugged by reason. Someone had to be, if J’onn wasn’t spitting it out. “Lucy could have told me about the strike.”

“Alex…”

She ground her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her words spat more forceful, like poison. “ _You_ called _me_.”

“You need to prepare yourself. It’s not good.”

His voice rang hollow in her ears. Her vertigo returned, washing her face with a pale numbness. “Is she alive?”

A rustling of clothing, then a pause. He must have been looking over at one of the occupied beds to answer Alex’s question. He must have needed verification because there couldn’t be the slightest tremble or hesitation in his voice. At the back of Alex’s mind, she knew J’onn had broken bad news to the spouses and surviving family of his soldiers. Decades of war brought just as many casualties as it did victories. He couldn’t afford to give Alex false hope. She didn’t want it.

“J’onn, please. I need to hear you say it. Is she alive? Breathing?”

He sighed, heavily. “When she wakes up, she’s going to wish she wasn’t.”

It was all Alex needed to know. She clamped a hand over her mouth and felt tears run of her fingers. The sound of her phone clattering came from a distant room. Alex sank to the floor, hands fighting to stifle the sobs. No amount of detail would have calmed her racing heart. Not even cold medical jargon could have put things in perspective.

Astra was hurt, badly. At the moment, the price she had to pay to keep _breathing_ hardly entered Alex’s mind. All she could think about was how hard she tried to keep Astra here, in the bungalow, locked up like some caged animal.

Ragged hiccups shook Alex. Her shoulder blades knocked against the cabinet behind her. She squeezed closed her lids to shut out the world.

Soldiers were not meant to sit out a fight. They were trained to lead, to inspire, to sacrifice. In recovery, Astra had been forced to go against her own grain. No one with her fortitude would have taken it lying down. And she didn’t. She couldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature.

Astra broke the chains forced upon her, seeking purpose just as Alex had when they settled on Fangshan. Even Astra needed her freedom, and she found it on the battlefield.

Now, she had fallen. Worse off than before. Enough to… what had J’onn said? Enough to relinquish life.

Death wasn’t the cruelest outcome. Not to a soldier. Death didn’t wring the tears from Alex’s eyes or bash in her heart with a mallet. The answer lied in inaction. Stillness. An aimless existence living with the worst mistake of one’s life. Astra’s punishment would be her undoing. And Alex could no longer escape blame.


End file.
